


please don't go (i love you so)

by quinn_rossi



Series: i love you so [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Gallavich, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Light Angst, M/M, Mickey has a cat, Past Abuse, Smoking, Smut, Underage Drinking, mickey's a big fucking softie k, the drug use is literally just weed don't worry urself, the title makes no sense its just a good song and i cant be bothered changing it ahah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-02-22 07:48:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 132,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13162494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinn_rossi/pseuds/quinn_rossi
Summary: fluff, smut, and domestic shit.You'll have to excuse like the first and second chapter, I had a plan for the story but then thought 'fuck it I love them both too much' so from there it's Good Shit, trust me. *previously 'i'll eat you whole' was in the brackets buut, made no sense oops*





	1. Chapter One

“Come on, you’ll enjoy it!” Mandy grinned at him. “I could help you get laid? You need to loosen the fuck up.” She winked and laughed a little. 

“I don’t need your fucking help to get laid,” Mickey rolled his eyes.

She’d been trying to convince him to let her treat him to a couple of drinks at some club for his 21st birthday. Mickey just didn’t want to. He had been working all day at the bar. Admittedly, it wasn’t busy, but still, he just wanted to go to his little apartment and sleep for the rest of the evening, night, tomorrow morning, tomorrow afternoon, wake up tomorrow evening and forget what year it was. That was his birthday present to himself but Mandy always wanted to go out, celebrate and make a fuss.

“Sure, come on let’s go.”

“No, fuck off, I’m busy,” Mickey replied.

“You don’t look that busy. You’re just sat there playing some stupid card game on your phone… so busy.”

“I’m going home in a bit anyway, so it’s still a no.”

“Please?” She continued to ask but Mickey replied by flipping her off and returning to the game on his phone. She pouted. “Ugh, you’re such a bitch,” she glared at Mickey, knowing he wasn’t going to react nicely to being called a bitch.

“The fuck you calling a bitch? Bitch.” Mickey stood up from the sofa. He wasn’t actually going to fight her, just intimidate her a little. She knew exactly what to say to piss him off. “Fine, I’ll go.”

“Yes!”

“I’m having one drink, making sure no fuckin weirdo tries to touch you, then going the fuck home.”

“Deal,” she smiled widely and grabbed her purse, “we’ll take the L there.”

 

***

 

The whole place was loud, busy, and fucking hot. He had taken his jacket off but still felt like it was the middle of fucking summer. He really wasn’t enjoying himself. He had stuck to his one drink rule and was halfway through his vodka-soda drink. He was thinking of telling his sister he was going out for a smoke and bailing before someone sat down next to them.

“Hello,” a girl with dark, shoulder-length hair sat next to Mandy and him at the bar. Mickey was really not in the mood to be nice.

“I’m gay, fuck off,” he snapped. Usually he wouldn’t go out loud telling the world he was gay but in a club full of people he would either never see again or were too drunk to remember something he said, he didn’t mind.

“I was not talking to you. I was talking to your beautiful friend. She is very pretty,” Mandy smiled a little before breaking the news to her that she wasn’t gay. “What a shame, I could make you feel very good. I am good at that,” she winked across at Mandy.

“Svetlana,” she introduced herself and shook each of their hands. Although he found it odd and rather formal for a club, Mickey still shook his hand.

“I am going to restroom, you come with beautiful girl?” 

“Yeah, I guess, I need to add some makeup,” Mandy glanced at Mickey and just shrugged. OK then...

Mickey watched as his sister and Svetlana disappeared into the crowd. There was a pause, then he realised that they were probably going to fuck. He did not see that coming tonight. Good for her… he guessed.

He looked across the bar, taking another sip of his sweet, burning drink. He found himself watching a group of guys. Most of them had girls under their arms and were laughing over something one had said. But his eyes focused on one of the group who just looked a little uncomfortable, and even in the dark and the flashing lights, it was clear he looked nervous.

He looked up and they locked eyes. Mickey couldn’t help but to stare. He looked really fucking good with bright lights flashing on and off his face, highlighting his odd freckles and the green in his eyes. The kid looked like a deer in the headlights, both of them unable to look away until one of the group asked him a question and he looked up to answer.

“Fuck,” Mickey sighed to himself. Now he couldn’t stop watching him, laughing with his friends. 

Then everything got a little stranger. He spotted his sister and Svetlana walk up to the group. Mandy put her arm around the guy he had been staring at. Then both of them looked over at him, stood up, and began walking over. Fuck, fuck, fuck fu-

“Hey Mick! Bought a friend you might like,” her friend sat on the stool next to him and Mandy sat on his lap.

“Huh?” 

“This is Ian, he’s a friend of mine,” she shouted over the music.

“Looks like more than a friend to me,” Mickey rolled his eyes and went to focus back on his drink although he would have preferred to just stare at his sister’s beautiful, alluring friend.

“No, no, he thinks your cute,” she giggles a little.

“Cute?” He raises his eyebrow. “Cute isn’t how many people describe me.”

“Well, I think you are, and I think that you’re also-oo real-lly fucking hot,” he slurred his words so much, he sounded even more pissed than Mickey himself was.

“Good for you,” Mickey brushed him off. Sure, he could be an ass at times, but he wasn’t about to take advantage of some drunk kid.

“Aww, come on Mick, you can leave if you invite him back to your place?” 

“Fuck it, sure. Let’s go Red,” Mickey just wanted to leave. This was a good of reason to leave he was going to get tonight.

“Red?” He actually looked a bit offended.

“Yeah, red hair. You called me cute, so fucking deal with it,” Mickey said as he left, not caring if he was even following.

When he got out of the club, he took a deep breath in the cool air. It was nice. He lit a cigarette and turned behind him. He was still there. Might as well take him home then. He got a cab and they both got in.

“What’s your address, kid?” Mickey turned and asked him.

“Fuuuck. Er, my house?” Mickey sighed in frustration. Great. He was probably going to have to take him to his apartment.

He gave the driver his address. It was only a short drive, filled with an awkward silence between them. When they got there, Mickey helped the redhead walk up the way-too-fucking-many stairs to his little apartment.

When he unlocked the door he took him to his bedroom and pushed him on the bed. He looked up at him, coyly and winked.

“No, you’re way too fucking drunk,” Mickey said as he began to leave the room.

“Noo, please stay,” he shuffled over on the bed, making room for Mickey. Mickey once again sighed, he was really fucking tired. The sofa was going to be nowhere near as comfortable as his bed. Fuck it. He climbed in next to him and wasn’t surprised to find the kid was already snoring.

 

***

 

When he woke, it was still dark and his head was hurting so bad. To make it worse, he had no idea where the fuck he was. When he looked next to him he saw - Mandy’s brother? The fuck? He panicked for a second before remembering they didn’t in fact sleep together, although, he was still confused why they were in bed together.

It was three am and he had school tomorrow, or rather, he had school today, in a few hours. He thought it was probably just best to leave. 

When he was just about to leave the bedroom door, he turned around and looked at Mickey. He had seen Mickey a few times at the Alibi but he always looked intimidating. He had the aurora of someone you really shouldn’t challenge. It was different seeing him right now. Asleep with messy dark hair and snoring ever so slightly. He hated himself for thinking this, but he had to admit he was pretty fucking cute.

Quit staring, he had to go. He turned, and left.

 

***

 

“Fuck,” Mickey angrily sighed, pissed off at himself for not turning his alarm off for his day off.

There was no way he’d be able to get to sleep again so he got up and stretched. He was glad to see the redhead had left, it means he didn’t have to explain that they didn’t sleep together and that he was just way too drunk to do fuck all.

He lazily walked to his kitchen and stared at the fridge. It was is if he thought the longer he stared the more food that he’d like to see would appear. That was not the case. He just had a few random foods and some beer. He took a bottle of beer and decided that would be his breakfast.

Mickey threw himself onto the sofa and wrapped the throw blanket around him. It was cold, OK? Chicago winter was really beginning to set in now. He turned on the TV, not caring what was on as he was just going to go on his phone.

Mickey (08:58): hey, u ok?

Mandy (09:00): yeah, went home with lip. u have a good night ;) ?  
Mickey (09:02): great night. really great night. lol. he fell asleep before we did anything. u know him or smthn?

Mandy (09:05): lol yea hes lips brother nd my best friend?? i thought ud seen him before with me??

He shrugged. He didn’t recognise him so wasn’t really bothered. This was a good thing though. Mickey couldn’t deny the fact that the redhead was pretty hot so if he ever wanted his number, Mandy almost definitely had it. His phone buzzed again.

Mandy (9:13): im skipping school today to smoke weed with friends, u wanna meet up?

Mickey (9:14): aint smart to be skipping school. no thank u to hanging out with ur girly bitchy friends

Mandy (9:16): no no it’s just me lip ian and maybe svetlana from the club yesterday if she txts back. we r meeting at the skate park at 11 if ur comin?

Mickey (9:17): k sure 

Truthfully, he wasn’t looking forward to it, but he wanted to be there for Mandy if it was going to be her, two dudes, and a lesbian from the club. Just to make sure nothing - weird - happened, especially if they were going to be smoking weed.

 

He still had almost three hours until he had to meet up, but what to spend that time doing? He glanced around his small apartment and the mess that was made up of clothes, beer bottles and cans, takeaway boxes, and those single socks that never match up to make a pair. It would be sensible to spend the time tidying the mess… nah. Mindless TV watching it is.

It was nearing half past ten and he noticed he smelt like the sweaty club he went to last night. After a quick shower and ten minutes of vigorously scrubbing his hair with berry scented shampoo, changing his clothes, gelling his hair a bit, he looked (and smelt) half decent.

Ian, Lip, Svetlana, Mandy. Sounds great fun. Not. 

He sort of knew Lip, he and Kev were friendly and sold weed together in the summer but Mickey hadn’t really talked to him. 

Svetlana was the girl from the club last night who Mickey was ninety percent sure had done something to Mandy last night so yeah, she kind of creeped him out, but he ain’t going to hate her for what she likes.

And Ian? Who the fuck was that? Whoever he was, it didn’t sound like Mickey was going to enjoy this. He was just going to keep quiet and smoke.

Fuck! It was eleven o’clock already and he’d forgot the commute to the shitty skatepark was ten minutes. 

 

***

 

“Svet can’t come, aw. Looks like Mick isn’t going to show up either,” Mandy sighed in frustration and Lip put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to him.

“Ay, we’ll still have fun,” he said opening his backpack and handing out joints to Mandy, Ian, and lighting one for himself. “Expensive shit this so enjoy.”

“Thanks,” Ian said as he lit the joint. All three of them sat down and he leant back against the wall. He really fucking needed this. He was tired and his mind was being real fucking stupid, all he could think of was Mickey and it was pissing him off. He barely knew him but Ian always fell in love too easily and here he was, falling the fuck in love.

“Hey scooby gang,” someone called over and sat down between Ian and Lip.

“Scooby gang?” Ian asked as he looked to see who’d joined them. Fuck. It was fucking Mickey. 

“Yeah, Scooby Doo, kid.”

“Scooby who?” Ian was so confused.

“The fuck you mean Scooby Who? Fuck, forget it. Weed,” he said, putting his hand out to his sister who handed him a joint. “Lip,” he said and they both nodded. 

Ian found it just a little funny and giggled a little.

“Fuck you giggling at? I fucking know you, don’t I?” Mickey asked, slowly realising he recognised the redhead. Fuck, he looked good in the light. His hair shone in places, his freckles were like a brush of glitter across his pale face, and his green eyes, slightly pink from the high, were familiar.

“Oh… yeah. Last night?” Ian replied, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“No way, you two sleep together?” Lip laughed.

“Fuck no. All he did was fall asleep on my bed because he was too drunk to remember his fucking address,” Mickey snapped at him.  
“Woah woah. Calm down Milkovich. I ain’t going to tell anyone.”

“Yeah you ain’t going to tell anyone, because fuck all happened. Besides, the kid looks like fifteen, I ain’t going to fuck a kid.” 

Mickey was lying when he said Ian looked like fifteen. He was too toned for that, beautiful nice, muscled arms that you won’t find on a fifteen year-old.

“I’m twenty,” Ian said.

“Yeah?” Mickey raised an eyebrow, even though twenty seemed about right.

Ian and Mickey’s eyes met and suddenly Ian was feeling hot under his stare.

“N-no. Seventeen, so, still legal, if we did fuck, but we didn’t so that doesn’t real-” he started to ramble on.

“Fuck, kid, I get it. Shut up about it,” sure, Mickey thought he was hot, but fuck he seemed like he wouldn’t stop talking if he didn’t stop it.

Mickey was reaching the end of his joint when Lip handed him and Ian another each before standing up with Mandy.

“We’re going to bail so you two have fun without us,” Mandy said as she began to drag Lip away.

“Wait, wha-” Mickey called, but they were already gone. Great. This wasn’t going to be awkward, at least he was getting high.

“Yeah, I might bail as well. I’m already getting a little paranoid,” Ian said as he too began to stand up.

“Fucking lightweight Red. I’m fucking bored, we can smoke more at my place if you want?” 

“Uh, yeah, sounds good,” Ian replied and smiled a little.

 

***

 

They both sat on the sofa, a little too close to each other, but neither of them were too bothered. Mickey turned the TV on and they both lit their joints.

The silence was awkward and painful and Mickey was thankful that he was somewhat high. As he reached the end of his joint he figured he should just kick Ian out.

“The fuck? Is that all you ever do,” Mickey shouted at Ian when he saw the kid had fallen asleep.

“Fuck, uh, sorry,” Ian jumped up from the sofa, looking very confused.

“Do I bore you that much?” Mickey laughed.

“Nah, man, I’m just tired,” Ian laughed too as he sat down next to Mickey again.

They both burst out laughing over nothing at all. Their laughing died and Ian noticed Mickey had his hand on his leg.

“Uh, I should be going, so…” Ian coughed awkwardly and began to stand up.

“No, no, Red, stay,” Mickey insisted, pulling him back down to the sofa, “unless you’ve got anything better to do?”

“I guess I haven’t, so OK,” 

Ian was nervous and quietly fidgeting with his sleeve. Mickey wasn’t that much older than him and Ian was even just a bit taller than him, but fuck did Mickey scare him. Mandy had told him about some terrible times when he gets mad and yeah, he doesn’t sound like a happy, jolly person when he’s mad. Maybe it was best to do just do as he said. 

Ian was also nervous because he couldn’t look Mickey in the eye without falling in love. Falling in love too easily had always been a weakness of his and Mickey wasn’t helping with his beautiful hair, beautiful eyes, beautiful jaw, beau-

“Fuck you looking at?” Mickey snapped, waking him up from his trance.

He knew exatctly what Ian was looking at. Ian had confessed that he thought he was hot last night. Mickey just wanted to fuck with the kid to see if he’d make a move or not, although, he wouldn’t be opposed to Ian making a move on him. He also had a feeling this could take some time, the redhead seemed pretty fucking scared of him, and Mickey liked that.

“Nothing good is ever on TV, ugh,” Mickey groaned as he got up from the sofa, “beer?”

“Oh, no thank you,” Ian replied.

“What seventeen year old doesn’t want alcohol?” Mickey muttered to himself as he walked to his kitchen and got an eight pack of beers.

He sat back down on the sofa next to Ian and handed him a bottle. He waited for him to protest but he opened it anyway.

Mickey was about to reach for his fourth bottle when he noticed the kid had only drank two. He opened one and passed it to him.

“No, Mickey, I really shouldn’t. It’s the middle of the day,” Ian said, trying to hand the bottle back.

“You need to loosen the fuck up Red, drink it.”

“No, I think I should just go,” Ian placed the bottle on the short coffee table and tried to stand up but Mickey’s hand was wrapped around his wrist.

“What? Two beers too much for you? You don’t feel like a lightweight to me, Red,” Mickey aggressively said, rubbing his hand up and down Ian’s toned arms.

“I, um, I… I ain’t a lightweight,” Ian gave up and sat back down, throwing his head back and downing the beer.

“Heh heh, that’s what I thought,” Mickey smirked and reached for another bottle. “You’re not bad at all, Red, just need some training.”

“Training?”

“Yeah, you got to learn some fucking manners,” Mickey sighed.

“I don’t need training, I’m not a dog or something.”

“Sure, but I mean you got to learn to not piss me off and maybe this could work. You’re fucking lucky. I don’t make friends but you seem tolerable, so I can roll with this.”

“I’m tolerable? Thank you?” Ian laughed, still slightly nervous and a bit shaken from Mickey being loud and forceful just because he wouldn’t have another drink.

Mickey saying someone was tolerable was like a normal person confessing their love, so this was pretty damn big. He didn’t love the redhead, he didn’t do sweet crushes, love, boyfriends, all that shit. He thought he was attractive though, so it’d be nice to keep him close. For now, Ian was a tolerable aquantinence, but Mickey couldn’t deny that he wanted more. 

Hell’s Kitchen was on and Mickey was trying to hide his excitement, he fucking loved this show. Ian giggled everytime Gordon Ramsay swore at someone and Mickey tried to hide the fact that he too was laughing.

“What’s funny, Red?” Mickey asked.

“I don’t know. It’s just that they cook the same food each year, you’d think the contestants would practice the shit out of them so they don’t fuck up on TV,” he laughed.

“That’s true. I know scallops are hard to cook but fucking hell, they do them every year. Same with beef wellingtons, they do them every year and it’s like no one can cook them. They always overcook or undercook them, no inbetween. It’s fucking frust-” Mickey stopped suddenly, realising he had just started to rant about Hell’s Kitchen.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty when you talk with all that passion,” Ian said, putting his drink down and slipping off the sofa, sinking to his knees in front of Mickey.

“Woah, woah, the fuck you think you’re doing?”

“Isn’t this why you invited me over?”

“I invited you over to smoke weed and drink, not so I could get a blowjob of some redheaded twink.”

“Who you calling twink? Twink,” Ian said, triumphantly.

“Twink? I ain’t a fucking twink,” Mickey was beginning to get angry but also quite hot and flustered as Ian’s hands were slowly rubbing up and down his thighs.

“Mick, you’re the fucking definition of twink. Your haircut, the way you dress, the way you get so defensive over little things, and how you look so cute when you trying to be mad. You’re just a lonely, little repressed twink, who needs some attention,” Ian smirked up at Mickey.

“I don’t look cute when I’m mad, and you might want to be careful or you’ll see how scary I can be when mad,” Mickey growled, trying to ignore the other things Ian said. 

It sounded like Ian was trying to take control and Mickey didn’t like that. Mickey craved the control. Mickey was going to fucking show him who the twink was. 

“Stupid. Fucking. Phone,” he groaned as he chucked his ringing phone across the room and at the wall.

Ian laughed at his little outburst. “See, cute.”

“You gonna suck my dick or can I watch my show?” Mickey smirked down at the redhead, fuck he looked good from up here.  
“Hmm,” Ian hummed, feigning considering watching the show. “I’ll suck your dick,” he decided.

“Right choice, Red,” Mickey began to pull down his pants and licked his lips.

Ian grabbed his dick as soon as he Mickey pulled his boxers down. Mickey gasped a little at the sudden movement. 

“Just hurry the fuck up,” Mickey impatiently said.

At that, Ian leaned slowly forward and kissed the head, then slowly stretched out his lips as he took it into his mouth.

“Mm, fuck,” Mickey whispered, throwing his head onto the back of the sofa.

Ian gently began to lift his mouth of and Mickey was not having that, running his fingers through his hair and grabbing it to pull him back down.

“Mm!” Ian moaned a little in surprise at this but nonetheless, he liked it.

“You done this before, hm, Red?” Mickey breathlessly asked as Ian hummed on his dick and pulled off with a slick pop.

“Once or twice,” Ian shrugged, “maybe more like fifty times, lost count,” he said as he went back down.

“Uh, fuck, you slut,” Mickey felt a little heat of anger at the thought of Ian sucking anyone elses dick, making him grip his hair a little tighter and roll his hips up a little faster, slowly taking control.

Ian’s hands were gripping at Mickey’s thighs, leaving little marks where his nails dug in a little and were his fingers clutched his skin. Fuck, it turned Ian on when he knew that Mickey was angry about thinking about him with anyone else. Mickey’s fingers grasping Ian’s hair showed his possessiveness and fuck, all Ian wanted to do right now was make him feel good.

 

“Fuck, I’m going t-” Mickey moaned, trying to pull Ian’s head up to warn him but Ian resisted. “Fu- fucking hell, Red,” Mickey was almost amazed watching the kid swallow it all up and then sucking and licking whatever got on his fingers.

Mickey sighed and looked down at Ian. His red hair was all messed up from Mickey’s grip and his cheeks were red and flushed.

“You look really fucking hot like that,” Mickey told him as he stood up to pull his pants up.

“So do you,” Ian said as he leaned forward but Mickey held his hand up to his mouth.

“I ain’t fucking soft,” Mickey stepped back.

“Kissing me doesn’t make you soft?” Ian seemed a little hurt but Mickey didn’t care.

“I barely fucking know you, I ain’t going to start kissing you. What? You want to go for a fucking picnic and look at stars or some shit? Fuck off,” Mickey spat.

“Woah, fuck, what did I do? You know me well enough to let me suck you off, what’s wrong with kissing?”

“Why the fuck would I want to kiss you? You’re nothing but a warm mouth to me,”

Ian stepped back, hurt. He really saw this going somewhere but the way Mickey changed his mood so quick was scary. 

“You should leave,” Mickey said, turning around a walking off to the kitchen, leaving Ian to pick up his backpack and show himself out.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the formatting. the chapters after will be better formatted <3

Mickey sighed as he sat back down on the sofa, another beer in his hand. Fucking redhead can’t decide when they kiss, that’s up to him if he wants to. Kissing is for soft, weak boyfriends who care a lot about each other. Mickey barely knew the kid, and he certainly didn’t care about him.

He grabbed the TV remote and rewinded the show back, slightly pissed off that he’d missed some but also not pissed off because he couldn’t deny that was an amazing blowjob. That redhead knew what he was doing but Mickey tried not to think about that. Because when he thought about that, he thought about him with other guys - the slut.

Ian being a slut might not be the worst thing though. But Mickey felt so good when he felt in charge, in control of him. Fuck, Mickey wanted him all to himself. He would need to keep a close eye on him, make sure he doesn’t go sleeping around with some fags.

 

Mickey (15:03): U got ians number?

Mandy (15:07): hes upset. wtf did u do?

Mickey (15:09): nothing?? fuk, u know i get angry sometimes but i swear i didnt hit him. pls just give me his number so i can say sorry.

Mickey wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to say sorry. He had to gain the kid’s trust, otherwise it’ll just make this thing so much more difficult.

 

Mandy (15:10): ill ask him

 

Mickey waited impatiently for the response. After five minutes, it didn’t seem like he was going to get a response soon so he lit a cigarette and went back to watching Hell’s Kitchen.

“Mary, what the fuck?” Mickey shouted at the TV, “You’ve cooked that fucking steak four times, ugh!”

 

Mandy (15:24): its 15349520. ur lucky he thinks ur cute.

Mickey (15:25): i stg, if he calls me cute one more time i will fckn hurt him.

Mandy (15:27): no. u hurt him then ill hurt u.

Mickey (15:28): hurt me with what? Ur lil girly arms, sure. bye.

 

Now she was pissing him off. Why can’t people just learn not to piss him off. He knew he had to be nice to Ian so it was best to calm down before texting him so once again, went back to watching his show.

 

Mickey (16:12): hey, its mickey

Ian (16:15): hey. sorry for pissing u off i shouldve asked before i tried to kiss u

 

Mickey was about to type a quick apology but if the kid thought it was his own fault, that was good enough for him. Then again, he wanted the kid to trust him.

 

Mickey(16:18): yeh, im sorry for shoutin at u. ngl, ur pretty hot when ur scared

 

Mickey waited for a response, but it didn’t seem to come. Maybe he scared him again. Well done, Mickey, worlds biggest fuck up. Great, now he was drunk and pissed off at everyone and himself.

 

***

Ian stared at the message before turning his phone off and smiling a little to himself. Sure, he was fucking five guys at the moment who all showered him with compliments, but he’d love to add Mickey to the list.

Mickey was different to anyone he’d met before. Most people usually just gave Ian whatever he wanted, let him take control, but Mickey, Mickey was something else. He was feisty, even if he was splenetic, he was intriguing and challenging, and Ian loved a challenge.

“What you smiling about?” Lip looked over at his brother, who was absentmindedly smiling at the ceiling.

“Love.”

“Ah, which old guy is it this time? Married?” Lip laughed a little.

“No, no. New guy, not old or married so…”

“Wait? He’s not old, and he’s not married? Thought you only liked old married dudes?”

“Fuck off,” Ian laughed and sat up. “I only like rich dudes, and it’s the old married ones that tend to be rich. I mean, this guy ain’t rich but fuck, he’s a challenge, you know I love a challenge.”

Lip gasped and looked at Ian, shaking his head.

“What?” Ian asked.

“It’s Mandy’s brother, isn’t it?”

“Mickey? What? No? He isn’t gay, I think. No. No it’s someone else. Someone way better good looking. Fuck Mickey. He’s too angry and, I don’t know. Someone else,” Ian felt his face heating up, scared he probably just gave himself away.

“Whatever you say,” Lip sat up on his bed, dangling his legs of the top bunk. “You know, Mandy told me he’s only ever been in one relationship before.”

“Yes?” Ian questioned, a little excitable.

“Why do you care? Thought you trying to bang someone else?” 

“I am but I’m just interested as to why he’s only ever been in one relationship,” Ian tried to ask, acting innocent.

“OK then. Apparently he was super possessive. Like to the point he wouldn’t leave him alone, like, ever. Also pretty abusive, the guy killed himself, couldn’t handle him.”  
“Fuck,” Ian whispered although, this oddly made him more interested in Mickey. 

Ian knew he could handle Mickey. The abusive side he could definitely handle, fucks sake, he grew with Frank as a dad. And, if Mickey was going to hit him, he looked angry enough to do it earlier, why didn’t he? The possessiveness couldn't’ be that bad. He loved it when Mickey got jealous and called him a slut. 

“Yeah, even though you say it isn’t Mickey you’re so desperately in love with, please just be careful. And if he hits you or does anything you don’t like, come to me, yeah?”

“I’m a big boy, Lip, I can care for myself. Plus, I’m not going to kill myself over someone, trust me,” Ian said.

Ian watched as lip lit another cigarette and went back to texting on his phone. Ian was tired but he knew if he slept now, he’d struggle to sleep later.

“I’m going for a walk, get some air, you want something from the shops,” Ian asked Lip as he stood up and slipped his shoes on.

“I’m good,” Lip replied.

“Cool,” Ian said before saying goodbye and leaving the house.

Fuck. It’s fucking freezing. He could have turned around and gone back into the house to get a jacket but he was already walking down the steps. Hopefully the chill air would sober what little drink and small buzz he could still feel.

 

He had been walking around for twenty minutes and had seen nothing interesting. He pulled himself up onto a wall and sat down, kicking his legs to keep warm. The main road was quiet and only the odd pedestrian would walk past. It was unusual, especially for this time of day, but then again, it was very, very cold, and everyone who had a brain was indoors.

Ian’s breath hitched as he felt someone sit next to him.

“Hey,” the guy said, lighting a cigarette, “you cold?”

“Um, I’m fine,” Ian looked at the person.

He wasn’t that good looking. Tall and lanky, and his hair was tied back in a short, greasy ponytail. He looked to old to pull off the young, hipster ponytail look. He offered Ian a cigarette and he kind of regretted accepting it because it would be rude to just leave now.

“Why, you out here in the cold without a jacket?”

“Oh, because I left the house without a jacket and I was too lazy to go back and get one.”  
The guy laughed at that, putting his hand on to Ian’s thigh. Fuck it. Ian looked up at the guy and not-so-subtly bit his lip.

“You wanna go somewhere warmer?” Ian asked, provocatively.

 

***

When Hell’s Kitchen finished, Mickey sat up from the sofa and stretched. He had a reasonably good day off, even if he was angry for about eighty percent of it. He thought that going to the Alibi would be a nice end. Especially since he wasn’t working so someone would serve him for a change.

He grabbed his jacket by the door and tied his boots. He took a quick look at himself in the mirror and ran his fingers through his hair, remembering Ian calling him a twink. Fuck him. He wasn’t a twink. Ian was the twink. The redheaded slut was probably out there sucking some old gross fag off already.

 

He wasn’t surprised to see the roads and streets were pretty empty. He was however, surprised to see Ian. He was sat on a wall with some ugly looking hipster fuck, laughing and flirting.

“The fuck?!” Mickey shouted as he reached them.

“Oh, fuck, um,” Ian mumbled, looking completely aghast.

“This your boyfriend? Shit, didn’t know, sorry,” the greasy fuckhead jumped off the wall and slowly backed up.

“You might want to run before I put your ponytail up your fucking ass,” Mickey spat at him and at that, he was gone. “Get the fuck down from there,” he demanded, pulling on Ian’s arm. “You wanna explain this shit, Red?”

“What’s the problem?”

“You. I leave you alone for a fucking hour and you already looking for some old dudes dick.”

“Why can’t I? You said it yourself, we barely know each other. What? Just because I sucked your dick doesn’t mean I’m exclusively yours,” Ian retorted.

Mickey rubbed his nose Fuck. It was taking a lot of fucking strength not to punch this kid right now and let him know his place.

“I want you, Red. I want you to be mine, nobody else's. No greasy, old guy’s. Mine,” he growled.  
Ian couldn’t deny that he was getting really turned on but he was also a bit confused. Mickey had literally called him a warm mouth, and nothing else. And now, here he was, basically begging him to be his boyfriend.

“I’m so confused? You asking me to be your boyfriend?”

“Fuck no. I don’t do boyfriends. I’m telling you, I want you to be mine.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Fucking hell, Red. You’re fucking thick. There’s a lot you don’t understand, you’ve got a lot to fucking learn.”

“Lip told me something about you.”

“Why you trying to change the subject?”

“About your last boyfriend.”

“Fuck,” Mickey rolled his eyes. “What about him? I didn’t make him kill himself. He did that himself. A bitch move, if you ask me.”

“He said you were really possessive and abusive,” Ian stepped back a bit, now he was feeling uncertain about this, the sudden change in Mickey was weird and he wasn’t sure he really knew Mickey at all.

“Yeah, maybe I get a little jealous but that fuck was sleeping with everyone and everything, fucking slut. I’m not abusive though. I’d never hurt anyone I love- like. I’d never hurt anyone I liked or tolerated,” Mickey was stepping back as well, shocked at himself for just blurting this out.

“I don’t know, Mickey. I don’t just jump into relationships like that. It takes time,” Ian frowned at Mickey, he could see he was regretting this outburst. But did he really mean everything he said? Did he actually want Ian? “You’re fucking drunk. Thank fuck.”

“What’s so good about me being drunk?”

“Because you don’t mean what you’re saying. You’re making fuck all sense, sorry. You want me to walk you home?” Ian asked, trying to be kind, knowing that he got pissed off easily.

Finally, the kid was fucking learning. Mickey could tell the kid was trying to not anger him. Progress. This was progress. And thank fuck the redhead thought he was way drunker than he actually was. He’d just text him later, tell him he didn’t mean anything he said, and start over, he could do that. 

“I ain’t a girl, I can walk myself home,” Mickey said.  
“I’ll text you, OK?” Ian shouted at Mickey as he walked off.

Wow. What the fuck just happened? Fuck, Mickey just got more and more interesting the more he got to know him.


	3. Chapter Three

Mickey (23:19): im so fucking sorry for today, i was too fucking pissed

That was kind of a lie. He wasn’t very drunk but when he does drink, he has a tendency to say whatever the fuck he’s thinking.

Ian (23:21): that’s cool. when im drunk, i try to kiss u. when ur drunk, u try to confess ur love in the strangest way.

Mickey couldn't help but smile at that. The kid was right.

Mickey (23:25): i wasnt confessing my love, just confessing my -want- for u. its different.

Ian (23:26): i dont think its that different. Its cool, u were drunk, we can just forget everything that happend?

Mickey (23:27): everything?

Ian (23:30): everything.

Mickey put his phone down and smiled in the dark. Yeah, he liked that. Looking back on what happened, he was slightly ashamed that he’d been so aggressive. This was what he needed, a new start. Maybe he was ready to start trying the boyfriend thing again.

His last relationship didn’t go so well. And he was pissed off that Ian knew about it, but he didn’t know all the details. He didn’t that the guy probably fucked everyone in South Side Chicago. He didn’t know that he was the abusive one, not Mickey. 

Mickey still had fucking bruises and scars to prove what that fucker did. He was the reason his nose was a little wonky. He was the reason that he had red patches on his ribs that used to be black and were taking their fucking time to heal. He was the reaso-.

Fuck. He was getting so angry thinking about it. He’s dead now. That bitch killed himself and claimed that Mickey was abusing him in his little suicide note. Fuck him. He wasn’t going to let that stupid relationship he had when he was eighteen ruin whatever the fuck he was pursuing with Ian.

Ian (00:00) hey, im ian, nice to meet you  
Mickey grinned a little. A small warmth spread from his fingers and met in his stomach, what was this? Whatever the fuck this feeling was, Mickey loved it.

Mickey (00:03): hey, im mickey, nice to meet u 

Ian (00:04): so… u come here often? Haha

Mickey (00:08): come over?

Ian (00:09): i have school tomorrow, sorry :(

Mickey (00:12): o shit yea. i have work as well. might as well sleep now. i look forward to seeing u formally lol.

Ian (00:14): me too. Goodnight Mickey.

Mickey laughed a little. Fuck, this warmth was so good. 

***

BRRRRRTTT!!! BRRRRRTTT!!! BRRRRRTTT!!!

Fucking hell! Mickey clumsily tapped his phone until the alarm shut the fuck up. All his joints seemed to hurt and he had such a headache from his small amount of sleep. He had fallen asleep on the sofa after that weird day and night.

As he remembered what had happened, he smiled. Mickey had smiled more in the past ten hours than he had in the entirety of his life. 

All he could think about was that red hair, that dopey smile, those green eyes, the -.

Fuck. Work.

Mickey looked down at his shirt, jacket, and jeans he was wearing. They didn’t look dirty. And surprisingly didn’t smell that bad. He just sprayed a cloud of deodorant, walked into it, and decided that was good enough.

He walked to the front door and looked at his hair in the mirror. He picked up his little tub of hair wax, rubbed a little on his fingers, and ran his fingers through his hair. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and squinted at his reflection. Not bad.

 

***

Working at this goddamned bar seemed to make the days last forever. He didn’t even see why Kev bothered to open at ten in the morning. It was literally the same four people who would drink slowly. It was probably for Frank. He’d occasionally rock up in there, spend like two hundred quid of money he definitely stole and then get into a fight or something.

Mickey did like to be there when Frank was. He could keep him under control and watch him to make sure he didn’t get his filthy fingers on anything he didn’t pay for.

He was watching Frank at the bar, grumbling about something and no one was listening to him. Then it hit him.

“Frank Gallagher.”

“Yes,” Frank looked up from his drink.

“Any relationship to Ian Gallagher?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” he slurred.

“I fucking asked you a question,” Mickey grabbed his grubby shirt collar and pulled him up from his seat from across the bar.

“Aight, aight! My fucking son. He in trouble or something? Because, I couldn’t give a shit.”

“Nah, just fucking curious,” Mickey let go of him and stood back.

“Ay, Mickey, show some respect to our customers,” Kev said.

“It’s Frank, though.”

“I guess, but, we have an image to uphold.”

“And what would that image be? Shittiest bar in the South Side?” Mickey laughed and Kev just shook his head, going back to counting the money in the till.

Mickey glared at Frank as he left the Alibi. How could that ugly fuck be related to Ian at all? 

Then a big group walked in and Mickey rolled his eyes. They all sat at the bar and Mickey wanted to ignore them but Kev pushed him in their direction, trying to get out off serving them.

“What can I get -,” Mickey looked at them, his eyes instantly meeting with those beautiful green ones, “you?”

“Vodkas and whatever cheap soda you’ve watered down back there for all,” Lip smiled and pulled out his wallet, passing Mickey some cash.

There were six people there. Including Mandy, who just flipped Mickey off as soon as he tried to say hello. Lip, Mandy, girl from the club with a Russian name he’d forgotten, Kev’s girlfriend (Mickey guessed as soon as she leaned over the bar and they tried to eat each other’s mouths), Kev’s girlfriend’s friend, and Ian.

He made the six drinks and handed them out, stopping at Ian.

“I’m gonna have to see some ID, Red,” he smirked at Ian.

“OK then,” Ian smirked and put his hand in his pocket, pulling out a fake drivers license.

“Thank you very much, Mr Andrew Daniels,” Mickey laughed at the stupid name on the license and the picture looked like a way younger Ian. “When’s this picture from?”

“Oh, fuck,” Ian laughed, grabbing his fake license and cringing at the picture of himself, “it was last year.”

“No,” Mickey gasped, “You’re not telling me, that you,” he leaned in close so that only Ian could hear, “ got a hundred times hotter in just year.”

“Fuck off,” Ian laughed and looked down, no harshness or venom in his voice. “How long did it take you to get that hot?”

“Oh, me? This is twenty one whole years of looking permanently amazing.”

Kev coughed behind him and Mickey reluctantly turned away from the blushing ginger.

“What? You told me to be friendlier with customers,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I meant be polite not try to fuck ‘em all,” Kev laughed and winked.

“Watch it,” Mickey pointed at him.

“Actually, you might want to watch it,” Kev retorted, jokingly.

Mickey kind of regretted coming out to Kev. Every time he tried to be polite with a male customer, Kev would always wink or smirk at him. This time however, he was right, he was flirting.

“So,” Mickey began, resting his elbows upon the bar and looking at Ian, “Andrew,” Ian laughed at the name but still nodded, “how long you plan on staying in my bar?”

“Depends,” Ian leaned forward slightly, licking his lips as he did so. “When do you finish work?”

“Three hours,” Ian’s face fell, “But I could probably be out of here in one?”  
“Please,” Ian looked desperate, clearly tired of this flirting.

Mickey never realised he was this good at flirting. He bet Ian could just ask anyone to fuck and they’d obey, no lowkey flirting needed. It made Mickey smile thinking that the more he teased and flirted with him, the more desperate he would be. 

“Yo, Kev,” Mickey called. “Could I clock out in an hour, I’ve got things to do.”

“Things? What kind of things,” Kev asked, not so subtly nodding to Ian and winking at Mickey.

“I’ll make up for it tomorrow,” Mickey said hopefully.

“Fine,” Kev gave in.

“Thank you,” Mickey gave him a smile before turning around returning to resting his elbows on the bar and leaning towards Ian.

“So? Three hours or one hour?”

“Three hours, think you can wait that long?” Mickey lied just to see what would happen.

“I don’t know… might have to occupy myself with him over there, been giving me the eyes,” Ian nodded towards the other side of the bar and Mickey turned around quickly, ready to punch whoever the fuck was trying to flirt with Ian.

Mickey laughed. “The frog? Kermit? Be my guest, Red.”

“I will,” Ian laughed and pretended he was about to stand up.

Mickey reached out and put his hand around his wrist. Not tightly. Just so he would look at him.

“Don’t leave me,” Mickey said and Ian smiled.

“I guess, you’re slightly better looking than him,” he replied, sitting back down and reaching for his drink.

The rest of the hour flew by. The people who accompanied Ian to the bar were basically ordering a constant stream of drinks but Ian didn’t even finish his first. Mickey was so busy with the drinks that all the flirting he got to do was just stealing glances and the occasional small talk.

“One hour down, two more to go,” Ian sighed, slightly sad.

“Yeah, two more whole hours,” Mickey smiled at him.  
“Why you smiling?”

“I was just fucking with you earlier, I can leave now,” Mickey made his way from behind the bar and stood next to Ian.

“Fuck you,” Ian giggled a little, giving him a light shove and hopping off his stool.

Ian turned to say goodbye to Lip and Fiona but they were busy with a game of pool. Mickey pulled lightly on his jacket and walked with him outside. 

The air was cold and bit at their noses. Luckily, Mickey had got a parking spot right outside the Alibi and held the passenger door open for Ian.

“Can I smoke?” Ian asked as Mickey started the car.

“Yeah, sure.”

Ian placed a cigarette between his lips and got out his lighter.

“No!” Mickey cried, grabbing the lighter from his hand.

“Fuck, what?” Ian asked, shocked.

“A white lighter? Trying to get yourself killed?” Mickey rolled down his window and chucked it out. He rummaged in his jacket and pulled out his little flip metal one, “Here. Keep it.”

“Superstitious much?” Ian laughed and used Mickey’s lighter to light his cigarette.

“Yeah, sorry,” Mickey looked away, feeling completely embarrassed at his little outburst.

Ian reached out and turned the radio on to get rid of the silence. It wasn’t an awkward silence, Mickey just liked to concentrate on the road. And Mickey knew if he took his eyes off the road and looked at Ian, he probably wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off him.

He parked a block away from his building as he was almost certain there’d be nowhere to park closer.

When they got out of the car, Mickey lit his own cigarette and Ian lit another. 

They were slowly walking down the block and Mickey felt his stomach churn. Nerves? Mickey Milkovich didn’t get nervous. He was suddenly feeling quite small. Ian wasn’t that taller than him. Thinking about Ian, where was he?

Mickey turned around and Ian was luckily only a couple of feet back. He was squating by an alley.

“Fuck you doing?” Mickey asked curiously, walking up to Ian.

“Look at him, he’s so cute,” Ian smiled at the big black and white cat who was rubbing his neck against Ian’s slender fingers.

The cat looked up with wide eyes and meowed loudly, several times, at Mickey.

“I think he likes you,” Ian said, standing up.

“Yeah, she fucking loves me,” Mickey smiled widely, leaning down to give his cat a good head scratch.

“She?”

“Yeah, this is my cat, Minerva. Where the fuck have you been, baby?” Mickey picked her up and smothered her with affection, not caring if Ian thought he was being weird. “She’s been missing for two months.”

“Oh shit,” Ian had walked further into the alley and was looking behind some dumpsters.

“Yo, what?”

“I think you’ve just become a grandad.” Ian said, ushering Mickey over to have a look.

In a small, dirty box, there were two little black kittens, mewling sadly.

“Minerva, you slut! Look at these cuties!” 

Mickey was getting a little excited. Minerva had been missing for over two months and fuck, he missed her. She was his best little friend, his confidant. Minerva had always been there for him.

Ian squatted down and picked up the box and Mickey dropped Minerva into it so she could be with her kittens.

“Let’s get them home.” All the nerves had been replaced by excitement and happiness. Mickey didn’t care if Ian thought he was being girly or soft with the cats, but, fuck it, he loved Minerva.

 

Ian put the box down on the sofa and Mickey picked up the two little kittens. “Gotta check them for fleas,” he said and sat down, taking a quick pick at their fur but concluding that they were clean.

Ian picked up the mother from the box and put her in the dinky cat bed by the TV. 

Mickey stayed on the sofa, coddling the black kittens. He looked up and caught Ian smiling at him.

“What?” Mickey snapped a little, embarassed that Ian was seeing him being this affectionate to some cats.

“Nothing,” Ian said innocently, “You just look cute.”

Mickey stood up from the sofa, taking a kitten in each of his hands and walked up to Ian. He stood as tall as he could, trying to intimidate him. He wasn't sure why Ian didn’t seem the least bit intimidated. It could be the whole inch taller he was. Or the two little, mewling kittens in his hands.

Mickey placed the babies in the bed and smiled at them cuddling up with Minerva.

“Thank you,” Mickey whispered as they both sat down on the sofa.

“What was that?”

“I said thanks. For spotting Minerva. She means a lot to me,” Mickey said, quietly, not feeling ready to talk about how much that cat meant to him, it was quite embarrassing.

“So, what’s the reward?” Ian smirked at Mickey, shuffling over on the sofa until he might as well just have been sat on top of him.

Mickey gulped under Ian’s stare. Fuck. He would go for it. Kiss him. But he’d only ever kissed one person. He didn’t know if he was read-. Oh. 

Mickey kissed back. Slowly and gently. Ian’s hand cupped Mickey’s cheek and he slowly climbed up onto Mickey’s lap, straddling him

The kiss got deeper. They were both slowly grinding in sync with the kiss. Mickey didn’t know what to do with his hands as they randomly felt up and down Ian’s body, resting on his thighs. 

“I’d love to see your bedroom whilst I’m sober,” Ian said as he kissed Mickey’s neck and climbed off him.

“Fuck, yeah,” Mickey said, and followed Ian into his bedroom.

Ian gently pushed Mickey down on the bed and climbed on top of him. Kissing him tenderly again. Ian’s hands worked their way across Mickey’s chest, down his sides and along his hips. Ian lightly grabbed the bottom of Mickey’s t-shirt but Mickey pushed his hand off.

“Fuck,” Mickey whispered, the smile on his face gone.

“Sorry? I thought we were…” Ian looked up at Mickey.

“I, fuck,” Mickey looked away.

“What is it, Mick?” Ian crawled up the bed and put his arm around Mickey.

“I’ve just got some scars, you know? Bruises and shit, shit’s ugly,” 

Mickey couldn’t look at Ian. He knew it was stupid. He knew that Ian wasn’t going to stand up and leave when he saw some bruises and scars.

“Is that it? I bet you look fucking amazing without a shirt. Scars or no scars,” Ian kissed Mickey’s neck, trying to reassure him that it was OK and encourage him to take his t-shirt off.

“That’s not all of it,” Mickey took a deep breath. “I just haven’t - um - haven’t, fuck, had sex in a while, not since my last boyfriend. And then, I didn’t like it.”

Ian looked a little hurt to see Mickey so vulnerable and sad. He kissed his cheek and wrapped his fingers around his.

“Sex can be good Mick, I’ll show you. If you’d let me,” Ian reached out and gently made Mickey turn his head to look at him.

Mickey nodded his head and pulled back. He kept his eyes on Ian as he slowly lifted his t-shirt off. Ian looked down to look at Mickey and Mickey looked down as well. He gasped as Ian reached his fingers out and gently swept them over one particular bruise, it was so awful. The fucker that gave it to him died three years ago, yet he had left his fucking mark on Mickey.

“You look amazing,” Ian whispered and took his own t-shirt off.

Mickey stared. Wow. Ian smirked at him and leaned forward, pulling him into a kiss again.

Mickey rolled onto his stomach and began to pull down his own jeans. Ian clambered on top him and pulled his own jeans and boxers down. Mickey reached out to open his bedside drawer and chucked the lube behind him, which Ian catched easily.

“You ready?” Ian asked, breathlessly.

“Fuck, yeah.” Mickey arched up, pushing his ass towards Ian.

“Someone’s eagar,” Ian laughed a little and grabbed Mickey’s hips.

Ian gently pushed his index finger in.

“What are you doing?” Mickey looked back, although this felt pretty good.

“Got to open you up first, don’t want to shock you,” Ian said, slowly pulling out and then replacing the one finger two.

“Mm, fuck,” Mickey moaned, trying to push himself up on Ian’s fingers.

Ian slowly spread his fingers apart and then together again, relishing in Mickey’s small moans. Mickey was shocked at himself. He was completing melting under Ian. He’d never done this before. Never experienced something as soft, gentle and yet, intimate as this.

Mickey made an embarrassing whimper as Ian pulled his fingers out. Ian gripped Mickey’s hips as he lined himself up.

“Fuuuck,” Mickey moaned into the pillow as Ian pushed slowly in.

When Ian had pushed all the way in, there was a silence apart from their heavy breathing. Then he pulled gently back, groaning into Mickey’s neck as he did so. He sat up, getting himself in a better position and thrust back in, taking Mickey by surprise.

“Mm! Fuck, Red,” Mickey whined.

Ian pulled quickly back and then quickly back in, pulling Mickey’s hips up as he did so.

“Say my name,” Ian demanded.

“Ugh, just fuck -” Mickey was completely losing himself under Ian.

“Three letters, two syllables, you can do this,” Ian slowed down again.

“Ian, Ian, fuck, fuck,” Mickey moaned his name fervently, pushing himself up on to Ian’s dick.

Ian pulled out and flipped Mickey over. They both already looked ruined. Pink faces, messy hair, and eyes filled with lust. 

This was Ian’s favourite view of Mickey. He looked so vulnerable and needy. Fuck, he looked perfect.

He slowly pushed his dick back in, licking his lips and leaning down to passionately kiss Mickey. Mickey moaned in the kiss, feeling more OK with being loud as Ian’s mouth was muting him.

Ian wrapped his soft, slender fingers around Mickey’s dick and quickly pulled up and down, matching his pace with his thrusts.

“Mm, fuck, you’re so tight,” Ian groaned into Mickey’s mouth.  
“Ian, fuck,” Mickey shut his eyes tighter, pushing himself into Ian as much as he could, “I’m going to - fuck,” Mickey sighed as he came into Ian’s hand.

Ian was almost there too, just a few more - fuck. Mickey bit down on his lip as he felt Ian’s warmth fill him. There was a short and perfect moment were they were both spent yet Ian stayed inside just cherishing this perfect time.

He pulled out and rolled into the space next to Mickey. Both of them panting and looking up at the ceiling.

“Told you so,” Ian finally said, breaking the hot silence.

“Huh?” Mickey was a little confused, still feeling like he was floating.

“I told you, sex can be good.”

“Yeah, I guess that was good.”


	4. Chapter Four

When Mickey woke up, it was still dark. Probably his fault for falling asleep so early but he couldn’t help it. Ian had wrapped his arms around him and fuck, it was so comfortable.

Mickey tried to sit up and untangle himself from Ian but Ian tightened his grip a bit.

“Mm, don’t leave,” he pulled Mickey close enough for his breathe to be hot against the back of Mickey’s neck.

“What time is it?” Mickey yawned.

“Like 4 or 5? Just go back to sleep.”

“Nah, I’m awake now,” Mickey sighed. 

He felt he could stay here forever. He felt small yet safe under Ian’s hold. But Mickey always struggled to go back to sleep after waking up, so he was stuck. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world though.

He felt Ian’s breathing get heavier as he fell asleep. Mickey was having none of that, he was awake now and bored.

Mickey pushed back and grinded on him.

“Hmm,” Ian moaned, “No, no, I need sleep.”  
“Well, I’m bored now,” Mickey managed to untangle himself from Ian’s embrace and roll over to face Ian.

“Bored?” Ian smirked a little, running his fingers through Mickey’s dark hair. “I know what you could do.”

“Yeah?” Mickey licked his lips. “I was thinking of getting myself a nice early shower, or maybe breakfast,” Mickey jokingly lied.

“I was thinking of something quite different really,” his voice was low and Mickey stared as his tongue swiped across his lips.

“How about this?” Mickey reached his hand down and slipped his hand into Ian’s boxers to grope at his erection.

“Mhm, something like that,” Ian replied, lazily rolling his hips in time with Mickey’s slow movements.

Mickey looked up at Ian, his eyes were dark and full of lust. Mickey gave him a quick peck on the lips before sinking down the bed, clambering on top of him. He pulled Ian’s boxers off and looked up at him.

“How about this? Hm?” he asked as he wrapped his fingers around his dick and smirked.

Ian just lazily pushed up into Mickey’s hand.

Only now was Mickey really appreciating it. Sure, he appreciated it being inside him but he didn’t realise how fucking big he was. It was pretty fucking intimidating and he wasn’t sure how much he would be able to fit in his mouth without choking.

Well, he had to start somewhere. 

He kissed the head and stretched his lips slowly around it. He swirled his tongue as he moved further down. He knew he’d got as far as he could, and wasn’t going to risk choking, so he wrapped his fingers around what he couldn’t fit in.

He moved slowly up and down. Truthfully, he wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing. He’d only ever received blowjobs before. He looked up at Ian to see if he was doing it right. Judging by the way Ian was biting his lip and pushing up, he guessed he was doing it right.

Ian’s hands ran lightly through Mickey’s hair but he was becoming a fucking tease, going so slow. He tightened his grip and pulled him down. Mickey went with it, moving his hands off of Ian’s cock and onto his thighs.

Ian thrust up, relishing in the small cry as Mickey choked a little. They quickly found their rhythm. Mickey moved down as Ian thrust up and it wasn’t long until Ian was feeling all too hot and came down Mickey’s throat.

He tried to swallow it all, but that was hard with Ian’s dick still in his mouth. Mickey pulled his head up and off Ian, the mix of saliva and come making an obscene slick sound as he came off.

“Who’s the slut now, hm?” Ian smiled as Mickey crawled up.

“Shut up,” Mickey whispered, pressing his mouth onto Ian’s, not caring to wipe his mouth first.

 

Mickey rolled next to him and looked to his side, meeting eyes with Ian, and he couldn’t help but give him a stupid grin.

“You’re so different to when I met you, I love it,” Ian said and kissed Mickey’s shoulder. “But I’m still curious, people don’t usually change that quickly?”

“Fuck, Red, we really have to talk about this?”

“I just want to know who the real Mickey is before - well - before this goes any further.”

“I’m the real Mickey,” he looked away, feeling slightly awkward, “I just had to keep my guard up, you know? I haven’t let anyone new in my life for a long fucking time, Red.”

“Aw, where you scared?” Ian climbed on top of him, grabbing his wrists and holding them above his head. “You scared now?”

“Fuck off, I don’t get scared,” Mickey laughed a little, shying away.

“We all get a little scared sometimes, Mick, that’s OK,” Ian murmured, kissing his neck.

“I don’t get scared, Red.”

“Mm, sure, we’ll see about that,” Ian smirked and laughed at the look on Mickey’s face, “I’m just kidding, Mick.”

Ian let go off Mickey’s wrists and, to Mickey’s disappointment, rolled off him. He wrapped his arms around his body and pulled him close, kissing his ear.

“So, what are we going to do today?”

“Hm? I have work, got to do an extra two hours as well because you’re so impatient.”

“Well, I’m skipping school, maybe I’ll come watch you in work, you look pretty hot in them tight trousers.”

Mickey had forgotten Ian was still in school. He was kind of shocked at himself for just melting under the kid’s touch. When Mickey had decided he wanted Ian, he didn’t see this coming. He just thought he’d be in control but he loved this.

Ian made him feel so protected and safe. Not that Mickey couldn’t protect himself, it was just so comforting to have those strong arms encasing him. It made him forget whatever he thought about relationships and love. His ex had ruined them for him, and now Ian was showing him something so different, something so real.

“I don’t know, how am I supposed to keep my hands to myself with you there?” It was a serious question. Mickey could touch Ian forever if he’d let him.

“That’s the fun part.”

“Or, I could call in sick and we can spend all day in bed?”

“Sounds perfect,” Ian smiled and gave Mickey a small kiss on the cheek before burying his face in his neck, “and now, we sleep.”

Mickey was happy to try and fall asleep again. Under the covers was so warm and the heat radiating of Ian’s body was so cozy and inviting.


	5. Chapter Five

“OK, bad news,” Mickey walked into the kitchen where Ian was sat on a counter, drinking a can of Sprite.

“Oh?”

“I can’t call in sick, I’m the worst liar, and Kev’ll fire me so…”

“I can call in sick for you?” Ian asked.

“Nah, nah. I need the money as well, so, if you wanna go to school and meet up later, I’d be fine with that,” Mickey scratched the back of his neck. He would like Ian to come and hang out at the bar, make his mundane job a little less mundane.

“I’d be honored to watch the master barman at work,” Ian leant forward and placed a soft kiss on Mickey’s forward.

“I ain’t that good,” Mickey shied away, his face feeling warm and that fucking amazing fuzzy feeling was growling in his stomach.  
“Fuck, you’re cute, I’m gonna keep you,” Ian pulled Mickey towards him and kissed him gently. “You ready to go?”

***

Watching Mickey work at the bar was even more interesting and fun than Ian had anticipated.

Ian loved to listen to and watch Mickey talk. He would often have this adorable smirk on his face or subconsciously lick or bite his lips. And when Ian teared his eyes off his mouth, fuck. Mickey’s eyes were the most perfect shade of blue and they were so soft yet intense.

When Mickey wasn’t talking to him, Ian had the best view. Mickey dressed somewhat smartly. The best part about it was the tight black trousers. Ian just got to sit there and admire his ass and legs. Fuck, Mickey was a piece of fucking art.

 

“Yo, I’m going to go sort out inventory quick, you good by yourself?” Kev asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mickey nodded.

As soon as Kev left, he was going to go to Ian and just make up for the lack of flirting. Kev was being a real cockblock. He kept making Mickey serve customers, like that was his job, or something?

Some guy walked in so Mickey chose to serve him quickly so he could finally talk to Ian, who was beginning to look bored.

“What can I get you,” Mickey asked.

“Hmm, I don’t know. What you recommend?” He sat down on a stool and looked up at Mickey.

“I recommend you pick a drink,” Mickey was not in the mood for some old fuck trying to flirt with him.

“Feisty, hm? I’ll have a pint of your finest.”

This guy was really pissing him off now. He just wanted to be alone with Ian and his cats, why didn’t he at least attempt to call in sick, fuck.

Mickey got a pint glass and poured in a pint of their ‘’finest’’. Their ‘’finest’’ being some watered down, cheap shit.

“A pint of our finest,” Mickey declared placing the glass on the bar and pushing it towards him.  
The guy wrapped his fingers around the glass, purposely dragging them across Mickey’s fingers as well. Mickey pulled his hand back quickly, he was really getting pissed at him now, he wouldn’t stop fucking staring.

“Fuck you staring at?” Mickey snapped at him.

The guy just smirked and placed some change on the bar. “Your tip.”

When Mickey reached out to take the money, the guys fingers were around his wrist, holding his hand down. Mickey was about to tell him to fuck off, but someone got there first.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing you geriatric fuck?” Ian jumped up from his stool.

He’d been watching the whole thing unfold but didn’t intervene as he knew Mickey could handle himself and he knew Mickey was clearly not interested. But the longer he stared, the more it pissed him the fuck off.

Why did this guy think he had any right to lay a fucking finger on Mickey?

“You might want to leave like now,” Ian looked enraged. His fists were tight and he made a loud bang as he slammed them down on the bar, right next to the guy’s hand.

“Aight, aight, I’m leaving,” the guy stood up, leaving his drink, and slowly walked towards the door, “See you ‘round pretty boy?” 

Bad. Fucking. Move. Mickey was about to walk out from behind the bar and give the fucker a piece of his mind but Ian was already on top of the guy.

Ian threw his fist into his face and the man retaliated with a fist into Ian’s. Ian could taste the metallic blood but he didn’t care, this fucker can’t just touch Mickey and speak to him like that and get away with it. Mickey was his to love and protect and this piece of shit was going to learn that.

“Woah, woah, not in my bar!” Kev ran forward and, with the help of Mickey, pulled Ian off the guy.

The guy spat down on the floor before saying “Fuck you all!” and finally, leaving.

“Fuck!” Ian yelled, kicking the bar.

“Ian, man, calm down,” Kev looked over to Mickey, “control your boyfriend next time, thanks.”

Kev took the little first-aid kit from behind the bar and chucked it at Mickey and then left to go finish inventory.

Ian sat down and Mickey walked up close to him. Even when he was sat on the stool he was taller than him.

“Thanks for punching that dickhead in the face,” Mickey smiled at Ian.

Ian looked up and made eye contact with Mickey. He looked pretty happy and grateful. And fuck, that smile. Ian didn’t feel so angry anymore and smiled a little too. That was probably a mistake as that just gave the blood trickling from his nose the opportunity to slip into his mouth.

Ian spat on the floor and took a few gulps of his soda. “Anyone lays a fucking finger on you, I’ll break their fucking face.”

“Thank you,” Mickey opened the little first-aid kit. “Um, this might sting, like a whole fucking lot.”

“What might st- FUCKING HELL!” Mickey sprayed the antiseptic on his nose and the bloody gash by his eye. “Christ Mickey, punch me in the face instead, that’ll hurt less.”

“Weak ass,” Mickey muttered a little.

“Fuck you saying?” Ian asked without any bitterness.

“I called you weak,” Mickey smirked and wiped an antiseptic wipe over the gash.

Ian hissed at the sting but continued to keep his eyes locked on Mickey’s as he acted as his nurse.

“I don’t actually know what I’m doing but I’m just going to wipe up the blood with these and hope you don’t die.”

“Thank you very much, nurse Mick,” Ian laughed.

“No, no, no,” Mickey shook his head, “There. All clean.”

Mickey stepped back to admire his handiwork. OK, so it was clear Mickey wasn’t an expert doctor. There was still little bits of blood on his face. The cut on his cheek was still slowly bleeding and had a nice black bruise forming around it. Ian’s nose had stopped bleeding however, so that was a success.

Ian’s hair was all messed up and his cheeks were still flushed. Mickey couldn’t decide if he looked more cute or more hot. Either way, Ian’s stare was making Mickey feel hot and flustered and he couldn’t have that right now, he still had - he checked his watch - three minutes of work left.

“Hey, Kev,” Ian called as he walked back up to the bar. “You mind not telling Fiona or V or anyone about this? Don’t want people to worry.”

“Huh? Sure. You not coming to the Gallagher-Fisher-Ball-November-Curry-Night?”

“Oh, no, got other plans, sorry,” he glanced at Mickey who turned away quickly, pretending he wasn’t listening to their conversation. “I’ll text Fi.”

“Cool, cool. Come on Mickey, I want to lock up.” Kev ushered them out of the Alibi.

***

“So, what other plans have you got? The curry thing sounds fun, you should hang out with your family,” Mickey asked as they got into the car.

“Nah, I’ve got things to do.”

“Yeah? What things?”

Ian smirked and put his hand on Mickey’s thigh, causing him to look straight into his eyes. “You,” he said.

Mickey had to turn away quickly and concentrate back on the road. He felt he could have just pounced on him then and there, let him fuck him in the car. But they would almost certainly crash, so that was probably a bad idea.

“You’re blushing,” Ian poked Mickey’s cheek.

“What? No? I don’t blush. Fuck off,” Mickey felt his face get hotter. If he wasn’t blushing before, he definitely was now.

“Fuck, my face hurts.”

“Yeah, I know that feeling,” Mickey said without realising.

“What do you mean?”

“Fuck, um,” Mickey tried to think of an excuse but fuck, he was a shit liar.

“Mickey, what do you mean?” Ian repeated.

“It’s Southside, isn’t it? We all get hurt sometimes,” Mickey tapped on the steering wheel, this wasn’t a conversation he was comfortable having now, or even, ever.

“Who the fuck hurt you? I’ll fucking kill a hundred people if I have to Mick.”

“Yo, yo, calm down,” Mickey reached out to place his hand on Ian’s, which was now held in a tight fist of anger, “the people who hurt me, they’re either dead, or in prison, don’t worry about it.”

“Fuck, man. Look at you. You’re so fucking perfect, how could anyone hurt you?” Ian let out a frustrated sigh and pulled out a cigarette.

 

As soon as they got into the apartment, Ian had Mickey up against a wall, kissing him fiercely. His kiss left his mouth and trailed along his jaw and down his neck. Ian’s hands ran up Mickey’s shirt, possessively gripping his hips.

“Stop, stop,” Mickey wriggled out of Ian’s hold.

“What is it?”

“Minerva is just staring, it’s - unnerving.”

“Who? Oh,” Ian laughed and turned to see that Minerva, the cat, was in fact just staring at them. “Well, how about we go somewhere a little more private?”

“Yeah, but…” Mickey nervously looked down.

“But, what?”

“I… I just want to stroke the kittens, they’re just so cute,” he confessed.

“You’d rather stroke kittens than have sex? Sex with me?” Ian couldn’t help but laugh at Mickey. 

Mickey looked so embarrassed. He just really liked his cat, and now he got to really like two little kittens as well. He’d been excited all day to give them a little cuddle. He had been excited to have sex, but, the kittens were so adorable.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to have sex, but, Ian, look at them, they’re practically screaming to be cuddled.”

Ian cupped Mickey’s cheeks and lifted his head to make him look at him. Mickey’s face was so rosy with embarrassment, and he was biting down on his lip. Ian gave him a small, gentle, compassionate, perfect kiss, and, when he pulled back, he pressed their foreheads together and smiled.

“I’ll order pizza and you can cuddle with the kittens for as long as you want, but, I’d also like in on the cuddling, thank you,” Ian softly said.

“Sounds perfect,” Mickey thanked him with another kiss, “I love - uh, that plan.”  
Mickey couldn’t believe Ian was real. He’d only been in one relationship and after that he’d decided he was done with love, it wasn’t real, it was just a load of made up bullshit that you find in children’s movies or movies about hot vampires.

He wasn’t sure what Ian and he were. They weren’t really a couple. They hadn’t really spoke about what they were. It felt like Mickey had been with Ian forever although it was only a few days ago that he didn’t even know his name.

That warm, tingling feeling he got around Ian was addicting, like a drug. Mickey wondered if this was falling in love? Ian was undeniably perfect, flawless in every way. He was incredibly attractive, he was so kind and protective, he was so patient when Mickey needed it, he was so unde-.

“What kind of pizza do you want?”

“Oh, what? Oh, I’ll really eat whatever.”

Ian stood back and took Mickey’s hand. He led him to the sofa and pushed him gently down. Then, he leant down to pick up the two dark kittens and placed them on Mickey’s lap.

Mickey grinned widely and shuffled to get comfortable on the sofa. The little kittens kneaded their tiny claws into Mickey’s legs.

“Wait, no, take them off,” Mickey passed them to Ian and stood up from the sofa.

He unbuttoned his pants and started pulling them down.

“Woah, what?”

“They’re fucking tight. And I can’t have the kittens pulling the threads out, so, they’re coming off,” Mickey said.

“Well, I’m not going to complain, you do have nice legs,” Ian licked his lips.

“Thanks,” he laughed, “but say goodbye to my legs, I’m putting these on.” Mickey swapped his pants with a pair of jeans that had been thrown onto a chair.

“Aw, I miss them already,” Ian joked, handing the kittens back to Mickey as he sat back down on the sofa. “What are you going to name them? Have you - checked - to see if their boys or girls?”

“Nah, I don’t really mind with names and genders, they’re cats. I was thinking Sherlock and Watson, I saw the show, they seem like a good couple.”

“Ian, Mickey, Minerva, Sherlock, and Watson, we sound like an amazing family,” Ian kissed Mickey’s cheek.  
“Huh?” Mickey wasn’t sure he heard him right.

“I’m going to order pizza, I’ll do it in the kitchen so you can watch the TV, won’t be long,” Ian stood up and took Minerva from his lap and put her down where he’d been sitting.

Mickey turned on the TV, feeling a little confused. But he knows he heard what Ian said. Although, he probably didn’t mean anything by it.

Now Mickey had to decide which kitten was Sherlock, and which kitten was Watson. One of the kittens had a tiny white patch on his tail. He was walking, or at least, trying to walk up and down Mickey’s legs, sniffing about. The other kitten was gnawing on Mickey’s finger with his not-so-sharp teeth, then meowing sadly when he realised he hadn’t bitten Mickey’s finger off.

He squinted at each cat. This was a difficult decision. The dinky kitten with a white patch will be Sherlock. The hungry-for-human-fingers kitten will be Watson.

It was clear that Mickey had spent a little too long to decide who was who because, by the time he had made his definite decision, Ian walked back into the room.

“Half an hour, then it’s pizza time,” Ian smiled and walked up to the sofa. “Minerva, I leave for ten minutes and you steal my space, how rude.”

Minerva had stretched out in the space Ian was sat in, already falling asleep.

“Be kind Ian, she’s a single mother to two adorable kittens, it must be tiring,” Mickey laughed at the fact that Ian had just been defeated by a cat. “You can have my space,” Mickey held the two kittens and stood up from the sofa.

“Where are you going to sit?” Ian asked as he sat down.

Mickey sat down on his lap, shuffled a bit to get comfortable, and kicked his legs out, almost hitting Minerva in the process. “Here.”

“I’m fine with this.”

Mickey wrapped his arms around Ian’s neck and kissed him.

Mickey went to pull away but Ian’s hand was on the back of his head, spreading his fingers in his hair, keeping him close. The kiss became desperate and frantic. Mickey awkwardly moved himself whilst still trying to kiss Ian, so that he could straddle him.

Ian moved his free hand to palm at Mickey’s erection. Mickey took Ian’s wrist, and pulled out of the kiss.

“The cat’s are literally right there,” he said.

“They’re just cats, they don’t care,” Ian impatiently lurched forward for another kiss but Mickey moved his face to the side. “We can move to the bedroom then, got like half an hour until pizza, and I could do a lot of things to you with half an hour?” Ian smirked and bit his tongue between his teeth.

“Uh, no,” Mickey didn’t want disappoint Ian, but he would rather play with the cats and smoke weed, “I’ve got some weed instead, whilst we wait?”

Ian let out a defeated sigh, kissed Mickey, and agreed.

Mickey took the joint from his pocket and held it out for Ian. He took it and held it between his teeth, his eyes locked on Mickey’s as he lit it. He took a long drag and held the smoke in his mouth. He leaned forward and blew it into Mickey’s mouth and reunited their lips in a passionate kiss.

“You look cute when you’re high,” Mickey said as he took the joint off him.

“What, you saying I’m not cute all the time?” Ian giggled at Mickey’s panicked look.

“No! No, fuck, man, you’re cute all the time. If you want me to call you cute? You’re so… mm, hot. Look at you,” Mickey’s hands traced along Ian’s chest and arms.

“You’re perfect,” Ian murmured, kissing Mickey’s jaw.

 

There was a knock on the door, and Mickey reluctantly left Ian’s lap. “Pizza,” he said, looking for his wallet.

“Ay, don’t worry, I’ll pay,” Ian stood up and walked to the door.

He came back and placed the pizza boxes on the table.

“How’d you pay?” Mickey asked curiously.

“Huh? With money?”

“Where’d you get money thought, you got a job?”

“Oh, no, I like to fuck rich guys from time to time,” Ian said casually, opening the boxes.

Fuck. How could he be so fucking dumb? Ian had basically already told him that he fucked other guys. Why did he think he was fucking special? Ian and he had only been - whatever they were - for a few days, a few ardent, passionate days. He couldn’t just expect Ian to drop everyone he was fucking and chose him.

“FUCK! I’m such a - fucking - idiot,” Mickey shouted, kicking the table.  
“Woah! Mick, what’s up?” Ian stood up and put his hand on Mickey’s arm.

“Take your fucking pizza, and leave me the fuck alone!” Mickey pushed Ian’s hand back and stood away.

He could feel his face was hot with anger. He was close to crying and Mickey did NOT cry, ever. He was still a bit high, but he wasn’t going to cry.

“Mickey? What did I do?” Ian looked seriously confused but Mickey wasn’t ready to give an explanation.

“Just. Fu-fuck. Off,” Mickey stammered, pushing Ian and his pizza towards the door.

“I’ll text you later, OK?” Ian said.

He was so confused. They were fine like a minute ago. Mickey looked so upset with him and he couldn’t figure it out. But he could figure out that it was best to just leave so he could calm down.

“Don’t fucking bother.”


	6. Chapter Six

When Ian got home, he was glad that everyone was at Kev and V’s for curry, he really couldn’t deal with the noise right now.

He trudged up the stairs and into his room.

“Hey,” a voice said, scaring Ian so much he dropped the pizza boxes.

“The fuck? Why aren’t you at Kev’s?” Ian asked his brother as he sat down on his bed.

“Went out with Mandy instead, you OK?”

“Yeah, fine. Pizza?” Ian handed Lip the two boxes.

“You not having any?”

“Lost my fucking appetite,” Ian grumbled.

Lip raised an eyebrow at Ian. He knew his brother well. And he knew his brother never turns down good food.

“Boy troubles?” Lip smirked, taking a bite of the greasy pizza.  
“No. Yes. I don’t know. Maybe? Mickey just flipped out, I don’t know what the fuck I did.”

“Did he fucking hit you?” Lip sat up quickly.

“No, he’s never hit me.”

“You’ve got a fucking black eye and a nasty cut on your face, Ian. You can’t hide that.”

“It wasn’t Mickey, OK? I got in a fight at the bar,” Ian looked at himself in the mirror by his drawers.

There was still some dried blood around his nose. The cut on his cheek had stopped bleeding but was forming a scab. He was also getting a black bruise around his left eye.

“I told you what Mandy said? He beat his last guy up, you know? If he hur-”

“Shut up! You’re fucking wrong about him,” Ian flared, jumping up off the bed.

“Fuck, man. Just tell me if he does, right?” Lip was genuinely concerned, and Ian knew that, but all he wanted right now was for him to shut up so he could fucking think.

“Sure.”

Ian sighed in frustration and sat back down his bed. He put a cigarette between his lips and lit it using Mickey’s dinky metal lighter.

He heard the front door open, followed by an excitement of voices. He wasn’t read to deal with this. He put his phone in his pocket and went to go to the bathroom.

“Ian!” Fiona pulled him into a hug, “What happened to your face?”

“Nothing,” he snapped, pulling out of the hug and slamming the bathroom door in her face.

He leant back against the door. He tried to breathe to calm down. He finished his cigarette and put it out in the ashtray on the windowsill.

He stripped his clothes and stepped into a hot shower. It stung his face but he just hissed and continued to wash himself.

He could’ve stayed in that shower forever. The hot water was so nice against his skin. His mind was just calm. He wasn’t overthinking or even thinking about what had happened with Mickey earlier.

He reluctantly turned the shower handle and got out. He quickly dried himself and got dressed again.

Everyone downstairs was so loud, he wasn’t in the mood.

He grabbed his jacket from his bedroom, ignoring Lip when he asked where he was going. He tried to sneak downstairs and out of the back door but Fiona spotted him, called his name, and brought everyone’s attention to him.

She walked over to him to touch his face. “What happened Ian?”

“Nothing, I’m going out,” Ian turned around and left.

“Hey, Ian,” Kev said.

“Fucking hell,” Ian jumped a little. “Why aren’t you in there?”

“Everyone’s loud,” Kev laughed, taking a drag from his cigarette. “Your face OK?”

“Yeah, yeah. Fiona won’t shut up about it though.”

“Why don’t you just tell her what happened?”

“Can’t let her know I skipped school, she’s always on my ass about skipping,” Ian groaned.

“Well, it isn’t a smart idea to skip school just so you can distract my employee,” Kev tutted.

“Um, is he - Mickey working tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but you’re not invited to come watch if you plan on starting fights with people.”

“Got it. No more fighting,” Ian held his hands up.

“You coming back in?” Kev asked as he held the door open.

Ian decided he’d just text Mickey, and see him tomorrow. “Yeah.”

“Yo,” Lip called out to everyone as he came down the stairs. He passed one of the pizza boxes to Carl and Debbie who took that, and a bottle of soda from the fridge, upstairs.

“You’ve just eaten!” Fiona called upstairs, but they were already gone. “Ian, ready to tell me what happened to your face?”

“His boyfriend beat him up,” Lip laughed.

“Fuck off, I don’t have a boyfriend,” Ian was pissed off that Lip just assumed Mickey was violent when it was Mickey who was the one being abused. He wanted to set him straight but Ian didn’t even know the full truth himself, and it wasn’t his secret to tell.

It made Ian think. Was Mickey his boyfriend? They hadn’t gone on any dates or really questioned and talked about their relationship. They had only been sort of ‘together’ for a few days but those few days were so perfect, until tonight, fuck.

Ian had been fucking some old guys for months but would never consider them boyfriends, just free money and a lay whenever he wanted. He was ready to drop every single guy he was fucking if Mickey wanted him to.

“I went to the Alibi after school and got punched by some old guy, stop stressing.”

“OK, that’s all I needed to hear, thank you.”

“I’m just going to go bed,” Ian said, slowly backing out off the room.

He shut his bedroom door behind him and collapsed on his bed. He wasn’t tired, but he was fucking exhausted from confusion and anger, ugh.

Ian (23:07): Hey

Ian (23:07): U ok?

Ian (23:09): Did i do smthn wrong?

Ian (23:13): Mick

Ian (23:18): please

Ian (23:20): Answer my calls

Ian (23:22): im tired, dont do anything stupid.i dont know what i did?? u were fine nd then u just flipped, wtf??

Ian chucked his phone onto the floor out of frustration. How was he supposed to make shit better if Mickey didn’t fucking talk about it.

***

Mickey got out of his shower and changed into a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. He lay down on the sofa letting the cats sleep on his legs.

His phone rang once, and he let it go to voicemail. Then he got some texts and his phone rang again, this time he just hung up. It was making him sad to see Ian’s messages but it pissed him off that Ian didn’t realise what he’d done wrong.

Ian was a slut. He knew that. That was him. Mickey knew that himself and he was so pissed off at himself for forgetting that. If he’d remembered, he would’ve just told him to fuck off sooner. He didn’t want to be one of the many members of the Ian Gallagher fan club.

He wasn’t being a bitch. He didn’t want to be in a relationship that wasn’t really a relationship. It just made things complicated because Mickey didn’t know how those things work. The one relationship he had been had been exclusive (at least Mickey was exclusive, unlike fucking Connor), and that’s what Mickey knew he preferred.

Fucking Connor. He hated to think about. Hated to think about his name. It made his head sting.

Fuck everyone.

All Mickey needed in his life were his cats and himself. Everyone else could go fuck themselves.

***

Work was boring. He was so distracted. All he could think about was that redhead. Fuck.

“Hey, Ian was asking about you?” Kev said as the people in the bar thinned out as they got closer to closing time.

“Yeah?”

“Oh, nothing, just asking if you were working. Thought he’d show up.”

“Oh.”

Mickey went back to angrily scrubbing a glass clean. When he’d thought he’d cleaned that glass enough, he slammed it on the counter with other clean glasses.

“Fuck, be careful with my glasses,” Kev exclaimed.

“Fuck your glasses,” Mickey retorted sharply, throwing a glass onto the ground, shattering it.

“Mickey!”

“Oh, fuck. I’m sorry, man,” after smashing that glass, Mickey quickly felt the anger fade, leaving him feeling sorry and upset. “Fuck, sorry, sorry,” he said, bending over to pick up the broken pieces.

“I’ll brush it up, don’t worry,” Kev. “Hey, you OK?”

“Yeah, yeah, just tired,” Mickey sighed.  
It wouldn’t be long until they closed and Mickey could finally go home. Every time someone walked through that fucking door, he was getting pissed off at himself for being disappointed whenever it wasn’t Ian.

He was under his fucking skin.

He just needed to get home and get high.

 

Finally, they were closing. He waited until Kev had finished locking up before saying goodbye and parting their separate ways.

Mickey had parked too-fucking-far-away. What weirdos parked so close to the Alibi in the middle of the day?

“Mickey,” the redhead appeared out of fucking nowhere.

“Fuck, Red. Not fucking now,” Mickey was a little happy to see he hadn’t forgotten who he was, but he was just pissed off and not in the mood.

“Mickey, please,” Ian grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving.

“Fuck, Red. Don’t you get it? Leave me alone,” Mickey struggled to free his arm but Ian kept a tight hold.

“Just tell me what I did,” Ian said, pulling Mickey into the alley, away from the main road.

Mickey sighed. Ian had done nothing wrong. Mickey was just stupid not to remember that Ian didn’t do relationships. He liked to have six rich guys going at once, Mickey just wasn’t up for that.

“Nothing. OK? You did fucking nothing wrong,” Mickey agrily sighed.

“Then why won’t you talk to me? I thought we were doing great, I fucking loved us,” Ian had crowded him up against the wall, still gripping his arm, but kept his voice low so no passerby would hear.

Mickey was finding it hard to just tell him to fuck off and leave. He could feel Ian’s heat, he was so close to him.

“Ian, fuck. I can’t do it. I don’t want to be another pawn of yours. It’s not your fault. I just don’t want to be in an open relationship, not my thing. Not that we were in a relationship, I was stupid to th-.”

Ian shut him up with a slow kiss. Mickey gave in at first but pulled away quickly.

“No. No. I don’t want to sound like a bitch but, it’s who I am. And who I am is someone who doesn’t sleep around and have people they fuck. I like relationships and commitment, and you don’t, so, stop fucking with my head, man,” 

Mickey really wanted this moment to be over. Feelings and emotion weren’t things he showed many people. He hated himself for confiding in Ian, showing him who he really was, letting him see that he was weak.

“Mickey, I’ll change. I’ll leave everyone if it means I can have you. Fuck, I get this feeling when I’m with you, like, you know, the feeling?” Ian laughed nervously, “fuck, I’m so relieved.”

“Relieved?”

“Yeah, fuck. I thought it was something awful. I was going to drop everyone anyway. You, you’re just special. You’re something different, Mickey.”

Mickey felt his face flush, warm and pink. He felt embarrassed that he’d overreacted. Fuck. This was his problem. He never talked, just shouted and punched shit.

Did he believe Ian when he said he’d drop everyone and change? One look into those sad, green eyes and the big smile on his face made him feel warm and light-headed. Fuck, yeah; He’d believe anything and everything he said right now.

“What do you say, Mickey, hm?” Ian said, getting down on one knee. “Be my boyfriend?”

Mickey was such a blushing, flustered mess right now. He didn’t even think he had the strength to say yes without his words becoming muddled up.

“Fuck off,” he mumbled, smiling widely.


	7. Chapter Seven

“So… what next?” Mickey asked.

He really didn’t know what happened next. He was so happy. He had a boyfriend that wasn’t some asshole called Connor!

As it slowly dawned on him what happened, he began to feel very self conscious. He just didn’t feel good enough. Ian was so perfect and he, he was broken and flawed. But when Ian kissed him again, he forgot all of that for a bit.

“You going to invite me back to yours?” Ian hummed as he kissed Mickey’s jaw.

“Fuck, yeah,” Mickey sighed happily.

Ian took Mickey’s hand in his own and lead him out the alley. Mickey pulled his hand free; he wasn’t ready for anything too public, and Ian understood that.

The car ride home felt like the longest ever. Ian kept teasing Mickey the entire way there. Rubbing his hand on his thigh. Whispering about the things he wanted to do to him. Telling him how perfect he was. Mickey was shocked he didn’t have a heart attack on the spot.

“I used to think you were pretty fucking scary,” Ian chuckled, “but, look at you. You’re fucking adorable, Mick.”

Concentrate on the road, Mickey. Don’t look at Ian. Don’t do it. Fuck. Ian was giving him the cutest smile and it felt like torture to take his eyes off those beautiful green ones again.

Finally, finally, they parked outside Mickey’s apartment building.

Ian had already figured out his plan. As soon as they got in Mickey’s apartment, he would push him against the wall and kiss him intensely, and then, he would fuck him on the sofa.

But, when the door opened and closed behind them, Mickey got there first. He pushed his weight against Ian to hold him against the wall, taking control and kissing him hungrily.

Ian was fine with this. Mickey was like an excitable puppy, desperate for attention, and Ian was more than happy to comply.

“We gonna fuck or what?” Mickey smirked, dragging him towards the bedroom.

Mickey practically shoved Ian onto the bed, climbing on top of him, and fervently kissed him.

He was going to let Mickey have what he wanted, and just fuck him at this pace, but if this was their first time as a couple, he wanted it to be a bit more special and intimate than a quick fuck. 

He held onto Mickey and flipped them around so he was now on top. Ian leant down slowly and gave him a light kiss before trailing his kisses across his jaw and down his neck.

“Fuck, Ian,” Mickey sighed, “Just get it over with.”

“Get it over with? We don’t have to do this now,” Ian stopped kissing to look at his face.

“Um. Fuck, I’m just tired, but if you want to do it now, we can.”

“Oh, no. I don’t wanna make you do anything,” Ian kissed his nose and rolled off him.

“Thanks,” Mickey smiled with relief. “I’m just going to have a quick shower. You have phone calls to make.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, gotta dump those old fags if you wanna fuck me,” Mickey let out a little laugh and jumped off the bed, stretching out his arms. “See you after my shower.”

“How am I supposed to cope all by myself?” Ian joked.

Mickey bent down and picked up Minerva and placed her on Ian’s lap. “She’ll keep you company, Red. I won’t be long, I swear.”

Mickey let out a sigh of relief when he left the bedroom. He had a lot of feelings and emotions right now and a nice shower would help him just calm the fuck down and focus on Ian and himself.

The water rolling down his back and face was warm and relaxed him. He really was tired. He’d spent the whole day at work full of stress and anxiety about Ian and now everything seemed so perfect.

When he would come out of the shower is when he’d really be Ian’s. Ian would no longer have those old, married guys. He’d be Ian’s. Ian would be his.

He was thinking about how the redhead told him he didn’t have to have sex just then, even though he knew that Ian really wanted it. He’d been so accustomed to just letting Connor fuck him whenever he pleased.

Mickey wouldn’t say it was rape. They were in a relationship. That’s what people do in relationships. Sometimes in a relationship, you have to do things you don’t want to, but it’s OK because you love each other.

Now that Mickey thinks back on it, he never loved Connor. He never said it. Connor never said it to him either.

He was young and naive when he met Connor. And Connor was older and bigger. He’d buy him things and tell him he was special and he stupidly believed him.

Being with Ian really made him think back on Connor. He had always denied it whilst they were together but now he really knew it. Connor was a fucking creepy asshole. He was thirty, thirty years old when Mickey was fifteen. The fucking perv.

Mickey was getting hot with frustration thinking about him. Not only did he have hot water dripping down his face, he now had tears too.

He took a deep breath. He had to hide this from Ian. He would almost certainly leave him when he discovered how damaged and messed up he was.

He left the shower and quickly dried himself. He left the bathroom with a towel around his waist.

When he entered the bedroom, Ian gave him a loud wolf whistle.

“Lookin’ hot, Milkovich,” Ian stood up and kissed Mickey’s wet cheek, “also, you’re pretty wet.”

“Yeah, that’s what showers do,” Mickey was blushing. A warm, pink blush that spread around his cheeks, nose and across his chest.

He didn’t care about his scars and bruises when Ian made him feel so special like that. He fucking craved that validation, that acceptance. He just needed the reminder that he wasn’t as damaged and ugly as he’d felt he was.

“Did you do it?” Mickey asked, pulling on a pair of sweatpants.

“Mhm,” Ian put his phone in his jacket pocket. “So, you’re mine now? We’re a thing now?”

“Course we are,” Mickey tilted his head up and kissed him as he ran his fingers through his soft ginger hair.

“What are our plans for tonight then?” Ian pulled back but still kept his hand behind Mickey’s head and still held his other hand behind his back to keep Mickey pushed possessively against him.

“Well, I’m not in work tomorrow so…” Mickey bit his lip and fuck, Ian loved to see him do that. “We can get drunk, watch TV, Hell’s Kitchen is doing a double episode tonight so I really can’t miss that.”

“Mm, sounds perfect. If you’re good, maybe we’ll fuck at the end, end the day right, ay?”

“If I’m good? You know me, Red, I’m always a good boy,” Mickey breathed on Ian’s neck, nipping ever so slightly at his pale, freckle sprayed skin.

Ian had to let go and stand back, otherwise he would have just fucked Mickey on the spot, and then their plans would be all muddled. Mickey frowned when Ian let go, but then he smiled again, feeling as if he was melting at how cute Ian looked when he picked Minerva up in such an awkward position.

“She’s joining us, she’s adorable,” Ian laughed as the cat struggled slightly.

Mickey reached forward to take Minerva off him and show him how to hold a cat properly.  
***

Hell’s Kitchen was about to start and Mickey felt bad that he had to tell Ian to shut the hell up. Sure, he loved Ian’s speech on how perfect he was, but Hell’s Kitchen was important to him.

“Nice to know that a cooking show is more important than me,” Ian pouted as Mickey shuffled away from him to get the remote and turn the volume up.

“No! You’re very important. But this is also important,” Mickey looked slightly panicked and torn between his favourite TV show and favourite person.

“I’m just kidding, Mick,” Ian placed his lips on Mickey’s cheek, before pulling back and whispering in his ear, “it’s cute when you panic like that.”

Mickey smiled happily, and turned his attention to his show.

 

The double episode lasted for an hour and a half. It would have been a bit shorter if Mickey hadn’t kept pausing it to tell Ian to stop talking.

When Ian finally got the message to stop talking, he resorted to teasing him. Kissing his neck and jaw and rubbing his hands along Mickey’s bare chest. Then, just to see how Mickey would react, he took his own shirt off.

Mickey was distracted from the show for a full minute. He turned and his mouth opened a little so he could lick his lips. He said nothing, just stared for a bit. Ian gave him a smug smile when Mickey woke from his little trance and groaned when he’d missed something important.

At last, the show ended, and Mickey finally gave him some attention. Although, it was just a sloppy kiss and then he pulled back, walking away to get more beer.

He came back with a bottle of vodka in his hand. “No fucking beer left.”

“That’s OK,” Ian said, a little wary as he was already as drunk as he wanted to be, anymore drink, especially spirits, would just make him soppy and tired, he’d be in no fit state to fuck at the end of the night.

Mickey took a few good gulps and hissed slightly, before handing the bottle to Ian, watching him do the same.

Mickey collapsed on the sofa in the space next to him. Ian wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer.

“I was thinking…” Ian began.

“Makes a change,” Mickey laughed. “Sorry, fuck, go on. Fuck were you thinking about?”

“About, uh, when we first met,” Ian hummed a little, trying to think about his words.

“At that club? How the fuck you remember that? You were out of it.”

“No, no, that, that wasn’t the first time we met.”

Mickey knew Ian was right. He had seen him before. He’d been in the bar a couple of times. And he’d seen him hanging out with Mandy. But he’d never spoken to him.

“I was like, uh, fucking, eleven? So you - you - would have been, fuck, fifteen?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess.”

“Heh. I was fucking terrified of you. You and your boyfriend, you were …” Ian trailed off. “Fucking hell, Mickey!”

“What?” Mickey asked, not realising what Ian had said.

“The fuck did he do? Fucking hell. You, you, were fucking fifteen, I mean, he was fucking old, fuck, Mickey, no,” Ian slurred, tightening his grip around Mickey, scared he’d leave.

“Ian, fuck, not now,” Mickey looked away, he didn’t want this conversation now or ever. Especially since they were both, Ian especially, drunk. “The fuck? Are you crying?”

“Fuck, I, I’m just drunk, ugh. How could he do that to you? Fucking ass. If he was fucking alive, I’d kill with my bare fucking hands,” Ian rubbed his eyes in frustration.

First, that guy at the bar. Now, his ex.

Why do people think they have the right to treat Mickey like shit? He was so fucking perfect and these people think it’s OK to touch him and take fucking advantage of him. Pieces of fucking shit.

“I’m here now, Mickey, I’ll fucking protect you from assholes.”

Mickey was going to tell him he could protect himself, but Ian seemed so upset and angry. 

“Thank you,” Mickey kissed him, “really, thank you.”


	8. Chapter Eight

Ian woke up in pain. Sleeping on the sofa was such a bad idea. It was still dark as well.

He looked down at Mickey. He looked so beautiful. The moonlight crawled through the blinds and lay on his skin making him look like a fucking angel.

Mickey really was an angel. Fuck. He’d do anything to protect Mickey. He just wanted him to forget his past and focus on his future. Their future.

Ian couldn’t lie like this forever. His joints were hurting and he needed to stretch.

He gently unwrapped his arms from Mickey’s. He tried to slowly roll Mickey off him as he stood up but it was proving difficult.

“Ian?” Mickey mumbled.

“Shh, shh, go back to sleep,” Ian whispered, finally standing up to stretch.

“Don’t leave me,” Mickey murmured, still half asleep.

“I’m just going to sleep in the bed, I’ll carry you there if you want?”

Mickey smiled and laughed a little at the idea. “Yeah? Like to see you tr- FUCK!” Ian lifted him up like he weighed nothing.

“To bed we go!” Ian laughed walking towards the bedroom.

“Put me the fuck down, Red. Fuck!” Mickey squirmed but Ian was too strong and held him tightly close to his chest.

“Mm, no fucking way,” Ian kissed his forehead before dropping him on the bed. “Hey, we never finished our list of things to do.”

“What?” Mickey rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“I said if you were good, I’d fuck you, remember?” Ian smirked, climbing on top of Mickey.

“Mhm,” Mickey yawned.

“Well,” Ian bit Mickey’s lip and wrapped his fingers around his wrists, “I’d say you’ve been very good.”

“You still drunk?”

“A bit, mm, but also, very horny right now.”

“Sleep it off,” Mickey wriggled underneath Ian, trying to free himself.

“Please, Mick?” Ian begged. “I’ll go slow if you’re so tired?”  
“Ian. Sleep.”

Ian sighed and reluctantly rolled of Mickey. Mickey was right, he was still a little drunk. But Ian was good. He wasn’t going to start off their relationship by making Mickey have sex.

“Mickey?” Ian asked, but he received no response.

“Mickeeeeey?” He tried again.

“Mick!”

“Fuck! What?” Mickey groaned, he was fucking tired and still feeling slightly angry and worked up from their conversation about his ex earlier.

“Goodnight,” Ian laughed.

“Fuck you,” Mickey pulled the duvet over his head.

Ian wasn’t very tired anymore. He pulled the duvet off Mickey’s head, just enough so he could kiss his forehead. Then, he sat up and pulled his phone from his pocket.

Mandy (01:39): hey, lips askin where u are?

Ian (01:58): with mickey

Mandy (02:01): pls be careful. he can be a dick

Ian (02:02): mickeys amazing??

Mandy (02:06): sometimes. but u no the last guy he was with killed himself? i swear mickey was beatin him up or some shit, just be careful.

There it was again. The idea that Mickey was the abuser. Fuck, it wasn’t Ian’s secret to tell, but fuck it. Mandy was his best friend and Mickey’s sister, she deserved to know that Mickey wasn’t an ass.

Ian (02:08): if i tell u smthn, u didnt hear it from me, k?

Mandy (02:09): depends but sure

Ian (02:15): ur wrong. mickey knows how to intimidate but i doubt he could hurt a fuckin fly. U should no that his ex was the one abusing him, not mickey abusing him. Ive seen the fuckin scars and bruises, shits deep and it makes me fucking mad. mickey is a fuckin angel who doesnt deserve the shit ppl give him.

After sending the message, Ian felt relieved. Mickey’s sister deserved to know that. It wasn’t fair that people thought that about Mickey. At first, it does seem possible that Mickey would beat people up, but it’s all just a defence system to protect him from a repeat of his ex.

But Ian was here now. He’d make sure no one touches what’s his.

Mandy (02:19): oh. I wanna hear it from mickey tho. 

Ian (02:20): i understand. Im gonna take care of him btw. No one is gonna fucking hurt him again.

Mandy (02:22): u cant guarantee that.

The fuck did she mean? He could guarantee that. He’d keep an eye on him, keep him close.

Ian (02:22): ? what ? ?

Mandy (02:23): u just cant. Night ian x

***

It was the middle of the day when Mickey finally decided to open his eyes and wake up.

Of course Ian was still asleep. He was still awake when Mickey went back to sleep.

There was a small ‘meow’ and Minerva jumped onto the bed. “Hey kitty,” Mickey cooed, scratching her head. She meowed again, this time directed at the sleeping Ian.

Mickey figured it was time Ian woke up anyway, he didn’t want to waste his day off.

“Ian,” Mickey said, shaking him a little.

“Mmm,” Ian moaned as he stretched slowly, then finally, opened his eyes. “How do you do that?”

“Huh?”

“Look so fucking good when you wake up,” Ian sat up and kissed Mickey.

“Shut up,” Mickey smiled and looked away, although he absolutely loved to hear Ian compliment him. “What do you want to do today?”

“I don’t know. You mind if I stay over for a bit? Things at home are a bit… unstable? I don’t know.”

“Do I mind if you stay over for a bit?” Mickey pretended to think about it like it was a difficult choice, “I don’t know, Red. I mean, I guess it’d be nice to keep you if I want a good fuck but, I don’t know.”

“Come on Mick, don’t make me beg,” Ian chuckled and smiled at his boyfriend.

His boyfriend. What an amazing thought. Ian had never actually done boyfriends before. He wasn't going to admit that to Mickey though. He needed Mickey to believe he knew what he was doing, he had to be strong for him.

“Fine,” Mickey rolled his eyes at Ian’s pouting face. “I’m having a shower,” he declared as he left the bed.

“Sounds great,” Ian smiled and followed after him.

“Wasn’t an invite,” Mickey giggled as Ian walked behind him and slapped his ass.

“Yeah, it was,” Ian shrugged.

 

They both eagerly stripped their clothes and stood under the hot shower.

They stood there for a moment. Both of them just admiring the other’s body. Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey and pulled him close and into a deep kiss.

The kiss was gentle and passionate but it quickly turned into a lascivious, heated one. Mickey’s hands were everywhere on Ian’s body at once. He was desperate and hungry to just be close to him.

Ian pulled out of the kiss and flipped Mickey around.

“You ain’t fucking going in dry,” Mickey turned back around but Ian waved the little tube of lube he’d taken from Mickey’s drawers in his face, “How? What?”

“I’m magic, that’s how,” Ian grinned. “You ready?”

Mickey closed his eyes and nodded, slowly turning back around.

There was a pause and then he felt the cold, slick lube on Ian’s fingers gently rub around his hole. Mickey thrust impatiently back on Ian’s fingers, moaning in relief as two of his fingers pushed slowly in.

“Eager, huh?” Ian whispered, biting gently down on Mickey’s shoulder.

“Mm, fuck,” Mickey let out small, lewd moans, but it wasn’t enough. “More,” he begged.

Ian sucked on the same bit of Mickey’s neck harder, intentionally marking him as he pushed in another finger.

Mickey’s moaning was beginning to make Ian impatient. He just wanted to fuck him now, but he knew it’d be worth the wait if he built up to it.

“You’re so fucking good for me,” Ian groaned down Mickey’s ear, he knew how much Mickey liked to feel validated and wanted.

“Please, Ian, I’m ready,” Mickey moaned, he needed more.

Mickey made a pathetic whimper when Ian pulled fingers out. He felt so empty.

The feeling didn’t last. Ian pushed his slick, wet cock upto Mickey. He pushed so gently in, letting Mickey feel every fucking inch.

“Ian, fuck,” Mickey whined, feeling like he was melting in Ian’s arms.

Ian groaned deeply, covering his sounds up by biting and kissing along Mickey’s neck and shoulders. When he had pushed all the way in, both of them were silent apart from heavy breaths. Then, he slowly pulled back and slowly pushed back in.

Mickey bit down on his lip to stop himself from moaning loudly. He felt like he was some whore being paid to be extra fucking loud but this is what Ian did to him.

Gradually, they found a rhythm.

Mickey had never felt so good in his life. 

He felt so needed and loved. Ian was holding him tightly yet he was being so gentle and cautious to make sure he wasn’t hurting him. Just the idea that Ian wanted him to feel good was making Mickey feel like he was going to reach his peak any second.

“Mm, fuck, so close,” Mickey moaned as Ian wrapped his fingers around his dick, pumping quickly as his sped up his thrusts.

Mickey came first. Breathlessly moaning Ian’s name as he did so. Ian followed after a few more thrusts.

He pulled out slowly and carefully shuffled them both back under the warm spray of water.

Mickey looked up at Ian and affectionately, lovingly, kissed him.

They rinsed themselves off and stepped out of the shower.

“Can we go to mine? I need to pick up some clothes?” Ian asked, pulling up his jeans.

“Of course,” Mickey smiled at the idea of Ian staying over for more than just a night. Fuck.

“I was wondering if maybe I could drive?” Ian asked hopefully.

“What? No. You even know how to drive?”

“Yeah, I know how to drive. Is your car just so precious that you don’t trust me with it?”

“No, it’s not that, I just don’t -” Mickey was shut up by a kiss.

“Please, Mick?”

“Fine,” Mickey gave in so easily. He was trusting Ian with his heart, so it wasn’t that hard to trust him with his shitty old car.

 

After they had been driving for a couple of minutes, Mickey relaxed as it was clear Ian knew how to drive.

“Who taught you to drive?” Mickey curiously asked.

“Oh, I used to steal cars with Lip. Needed the money, so…” Ian trailed off. “We don’t do shit like that anymore.”

“Nah, it’s all cool. It’s fucking South Side, we all do shit we’re not supposed to,” Mickey shrugged.

“All of us? What have you done?” Mickey laughed a little at the thought of Mickey doing anything more criminal than a simple assault to someone who pissed him off.

“A lot of shit. Just, not the time to talk about my fucking past,” Mickey chewed his fingernails anxiously, not wanting to ruin the mood with his past and knowing they were getting closer to Ian’s house.

Ian pulled up and parked right outside his house.

“Hurry back, I’ll just wait here,” Mickey waved at Ian.

“No, no, come in. You don’t have to talk to anyone,” Ian smiled and opened Mickey’s door to encourage him.

Mickey followed Ian up the steps and into his house.

It was noisy but luckily no one noticed them come in and skip up the stairs.

Ian opened the door to his bedroom and Mickey was slightly surprised. There was the bed which Ian sat down on so he guessed that was his, a bunk bed and another bed pushed in the corner.

“I share with Carl and Liam, used to share with Lip as well and might as well since he spends more time in here than his own room,” Ian laughed, shoving clothes into his backpack, “Let me just get my toothbrush, don’t move,” Ian kissed Mickey quickly and left him alone in the room.

Mickey sat down on Ian’s bed and looked around the busy room. The mess was at least ninety percent clothes or old food boxes.

The door opened and Mickey looked up quickly, only to be disappointed.

“Fuck you doing here Milkovich?” Lip sneered at him.

“I could ask you the same fucking question,” Mickey stood up swiftly, not wanting to feel intimidated and small if he’d stayed sitting down.

“Um, I live here?”

“Fair point.”

“Well, since I’ve got you, I’ve got some fucking words I’d like to say,” Lip moved closer to Mickey so he could lower his voice.

“You fucking hurt Ian, I fucking kill you,” Lip spat.

“Fuck. Off. I’d never fucking hurt Ian.”

“Oh, yeah? Mandy told me about your last fellow, you didn’t mind beating him up, did you now?”

“You don’t know shit!” Mickey shouted, shoving Lip backwards.

“I think I fucking do if you’re so angry already,” Lip shoved him back.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up,” Mickey growled, balling his hands into tight fists.

“You gonna fucking punch me, huh? Just like you did to your last guy? Just like you’re going to do to Ian?” Lip was angering him real fucking fast.

Mickey’s fist flew at the side of Lip’s face just as Ian walked in.

“Mickey, what the fuck?!” Ian shouted.

Now Lip was pissed off, and punched him back, hard in the face.

Mickey launched at him pushing him to the ground. He managed to get another punch in before Lip rolled him over and started smashing his fist into his face, over and over, until there was more shouting from more people and Lip was being dragged off him.

“Fuck!” Mickey shakingly stood up and looked around him.

The whole family was just staring. Even Kev was there. And seeing the frightened look on the kids’ faces made him feel sick.

Mickey pushed past everyone and out of the room, running down the stairs.

“Mickey! Come back!” Ian called after him.

Ian managed to catch up to him as soon as he reached his car.

“What happened?” Ian asked, looking worried, upset, and angry all at once.

“Nothing, fuck. I’m going home,” Mickey said, opening the door to his car.

“No, please, you’re covered in blood,” Ian tried to grab Mickey’s arm but he’d already slammed his car door.

“I’ll text you, maybe,” Mickey punched his steering wheel and clumsily shoved his keys into the ignition.


	9. Chapter Nine

“What the fuck did you do?” Ian shouted at his brother.

“Proving a point.”

“Fuck you mean?”

“I mean, Mickey’s a fucking psycho,” Lip groaned and held the bag of frozen peas.

“Mickey’s not a fucking psycho,” Ian shouted, slamming his fist on the kitchen table. “You must’ve said something to piss him off, he doesn’t just punch people for no reason.”

“I didn’t say shit, just asked about his ex, said I didn’t want him repeating what happened with you.”

“Fucking hell Lip. I told you, I can look after myself. Plus, you’ve got the story wrong. Mickey isn’t a bad guy, OK? It’s - it’s not my choice to tell you the truth so I won’t but listen, keep your nose out of my fucking business, Mickey is a good guy and you better fucking apologise if you want me to forgive you for this shit.” 

Ian was trying to resist throwing himself at his brother and beating the shit out of him. It fucking broke him to see the abuse Mickey received. He was getting so exasperated, so fucking irritated, just being near Lip right now.

“Whatever you say, I’ll apologise,” Lip said, taking a swig of his beer.

“Fucking done,” Ian muttered, heading to the door.

“Huh?”

“I said,” he raised his voice, “I’m - FUCKING DONE!”

He made sure to slam the door behind him.

The sun was already setting and it was getting really fucking cold. He lit a cigarette and walked down the steps.

He’d been wandering the streets for hours now. It was dark, the dim street lights barely had impact, and a bitter, frigid cold blew through the air. When he finished the last smoke from his packet, he felt he had calmed down enough to see Mickey and not want to punch anyone that even looked at him.

He tried to ring him but got no answer. Mickey had mentioned he hated talking over the phone, so Ian texted him.

Ian (19:32): hey, u ok?

Ian (19:35): i spoke to lip btw, lol, surprised i didnt fkn kill him. U ok?

Ian (19:37): mick

Ian (19:37): mickey

Ian (19:37): mickey

Ian (19:38): im comin over. Its cold outside. Hope ur ok.

Ian shoved his phone in his pocket and shook his head, trying to erase the image of Mickey with that blood on his face and close to tears.

He had knocked on his apartment door several times now and still, no answer. Fuck. Fuck. Ian was beginning to panic. What if he had concussion and crashed? What if he’d just drove real fucking far away and never came back? What if he’d just -

“Ian.”

Mickey walked down the hallway and up to Ian.

“Mick, fuck, look at you.”

His face was besmirched with dried blood. Both his eyes had dark, purple rings around. His usually perfectly styled hair was a mess.

“You’re brother knows how to punch, ay?” Mickey laughed a little and opened his apartment, letting them both in, closing the door behind them.

“Are you OK?” Ian anxiously asked.

Mickey looked at him and raised an eyebrow. It was a stupid question. He wasn’t OK.

“No,” Mickey nervously laughed, “no, I am not fucking OK,” Mickey started to properly laugh, giggling like this was a joke.

He leaned against the wall, calming himself down and stopping laughing. There was a short silence. Mickey looked into Ian’s eyes and fuck, Mickey looked so broken. Then he started to cry.

Ian pulled Mickey close, wrapping his arms firmly around Mickey. Mickey shook slightly, crying silently into Ian’s shoulder.

“Fuck, Red, I’m sorry,” Mickey sniffed, pulling away.

“No, no, Mick, you deserve to cry. Everyone’s always giving you shit, it’s not fair.”

Mickey wiped his cheeks and nodded. He leaned back into Ian’s arms and kissed him.

The kiss was short and tasted salty from tears, but when they pulled away, Mickey felt different. He’d shown all these fucking emotions to Ian yet, he was still there. Still holding him. Still kissing him. Still telling him that he was special.

“Shower? You’ve got a bit of blood, like… everywhere,” Ian asked.

Mickey sighed and nodded.

***

That night had changed their relationship so much.

Mickey finally felt completely safe with Ian. He’d never felt so close to someone before. He felt so comfortable and secure with him. And for the first time in his life, he believed he had a good future to look forward to.

“Text me when you get out, yeah?” Mickey asked as he pulled up by Ian’s school.

“Of course,” Ian smirked, kissed him, and left.

Mickey waited a moment before starting the car again and driving to work. He had to accept this was going to be a long fucking day, hopefully the thought of coming home to Ian would be enough to get him through the day.

“Woa-oh, what happened to your face?” Kev asked as he entered the Alibi.

“What’s it to you?” Mickey asked annoyed, he didn’t want to think about yesterday right now.

“Gotta keep my employees safe, Milkovich,” Kev tutted, “plus, if it happened at the bar, then you could probably sue more or some shit.”

“Oh, Gallaghers house yesterday. That fucking kid, Lip.”

“Shit, what happened?”

“Nothing, nothing. I’m fucking over it now, though,” he bitterly replied.

Mickey caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked better than yesterday. There was no blood on his face just two black eyes and bruised nose. He’d looked worse. He’d experienced worse.

“Milkovich,” Lip approached the bar and Mickey scowled at him.

The guy had the tiniest bruise on his cheek. That was fucking it. He was getting weak. Spending all this time with Ian, being who he really is, was making fucking soft. Yeah, Mickey liked being like that, but this is fucking South Side, if you can’t throw a good punch, you’re fucking dead.

“Fuck you want?” Mickey glowered at Lip.

“Look, Ian is really fucking defensive about you, thinks your an angel or some shit, he’s my brother so I’m going to believe him. So, I’m sorry, about yesterday.”

Mickey stared at Lip. He sighed. Ian would want him to forgive his brother.

“Don’t fret about it,” Mickey forgave him, and handed him a free pint as a peace offering

“Let me just remind you, though. You hurt him, we’ll have a fucking repeat.”

“Fuck, I get it, OK? I ain’t gonna do shit to him.”

Lip nodded and gulped back half his pint. “Your sister’s fucking crazy, man.”

“Fuck you saying?” Mickey growled. He just accepted his apology, now he’s going to fucking ruin it.

“Nah, nah, I mean, in a good way. Like, I really, really like her.”

“Oh,” Mickey relaxed. “Good for you.”

“So… um… so…” Lip struggled to find the words.

“Spit it out, fuck,” Mickey laughed.

“So, are you actually gay? Like with my brother? Which is fine, by the way.”

“Huh? I guess, I don’t know.”

Lip raised his glass and laughed, “fucking Milkoviches and Gallaghers, I guess fucked up people attract fucked up people.”

“What d’you mean? Ian’s not fucked up?”

“We all are,” Lip finished his pint and left.

Mickey didn’t dwell on it. Lip was right. The whole of South Side has fucking skeletons in their closet, some have more than others. Accidents happen. It was a fucking accident. He was defending himself. It wasn’t his fau-.

“Ian?” Mickey smiled at the redhead as he sat down in front of him.

“School’s shit,” Ian smiled at him.

“Yeah, but it’s also kind of important.”

“I know but, I can’t stop thinking about you. I just wanna be here, make sure you don’t get yourself in trouble.”

“I never get in trouble, I’m good as gold,” Mickey laughed and handed Ian a pint of soda.

“Soda?”

“It’s ten in the morning, plus, it’s not even legal for you to drink.”

“Well then, sorry then, didn’t realise you were my mother,” Ian giggled but drank it anyway.

Mickey smiled. He couldn’t believe that the hottest person in Chicago, no, fucking Illinois, and almost definitely the country, likely the world, and a good possissibility in the universe, would rather sit and watch him at his boring job because he wanted to be near him rather than be at school with friends.

 

“YO, closing time, everyone out!” Kev shouted at the few people in the bar.

“It’s fucking six pm?” Mickey gave him a quizzical look.

“Veronica’s mother has made a surprise visit, gotta go save her.”

“I can look after the bar,” Mickey said but then he made eye contact with Ian and regretted it.

“Really?”

“Um… actually, I do have things to do, so…”

“That’s cool, let’s leave.”

Mickey leant on the wall outside in the cool air. He lit a cigarette in his mouth and handed it to Ian before lighting one for himself.

“So,” Mickey smirked at Ian, “I wonder what we should do with all this extra time, huh, Red?”

“Actually, I made plans, already,” Ian said and Mickey’s smile fell from his face.

“Oh, that’s cool, sure,” Mickey said, wandering off towards his car.

“I mean, plans for us, with you,” Ian put his arm around Mickey’s shoulder, smiling a little at how small and sad he looked at thought of him leaving. “But, you’re going to have to let me drive.”

“Hmm, where are we going?”

“Somewhere,” Ian hummed and took the keys from Mickey’s hand.

Mickey gave him a skeptical look, but he got in the car anyway.

Once inside the car, Ian’s hand was already on his thigh. “Nope, you can’t touch me and drive.”

“Why not?” Ian asked sadly.

“Because if you crash my beautiful car, then we are done,” Mickey joked.

“Beautiful car? Come on, we both know it’s a piece of shit,” Ian tried to start the car but all it did was make a pathetic spitting sound. “See?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Mickey rolled his eyes but laughed anyway.

Ian finally got the car to start and soon enough, they were on the way to… wherever Ian was taking them.

“You gonna tell me where we’re going?” Mickey tried again.

“Hmm, no.”

“Ian?”

“What?” Ian looked at him and smiled at his puppy dog eyes.

“Please?”

“It’s a secret, OK?”

“Fine, fuck you,” Mickey grinned.

Wait. Was this a date? Oh fuck. It kind of was. Ian was taking him out somewhere. Mickey started to feel too warm. He’d never done a date before. Fuck. How was he supposed to act? Fuck!

“You OK there, babe?”

“I- Uh - Yeah,” Mickey stumbled on his words, a little surprised about Ian calling him babe.

“Good,” Ian leaned over to kiss him but Mickey dodged.

“Concentrate on the road, please,” Mickey tutted.

 

They had been driving for hours, Mickey had given up asking where they were going. They talked about so much random stuff. Mickey loved it. He loved to listen about Ian’s past and all the stupid funny things he did when he was young. When the conversation turned to Mickey’s past, he said he didn’t want to talk about it, and Ian was OK with that.

“Almost there,” Ian said as he turned the car off the road and into some field.

“Woah, what the fuck?”

“Trust me,” Ian said, and he did.

Ian finally stopped the car and they both stepped out.

“So, why are we in this field… all by ourselves… in the dark?” Mickey asked, looking around the place.

“Picnic?” Ian grinned and opened his backpack.

He pulled out a blanket, some sandwiches and beer. Mickey smiled widely, his face painted with a pink blush that he hoped Ian wouldn’t be able to see in the dark.

He sat down on the blanket next to Ian and accepted a can of beer.

He turned to see Ian watching him drink. “What?” he snapped slightly.

“Mm, nothing,” Ian murmured, leaning forward to kiss him.

Mickey turned his head away. They were in public, he wasn’t ready for that.

Ian quirked an eyebrow at him and looked around. Mickey looked around too. They were really alone in the middle of nowhere.

He reached out to put his hand around the back of Ian’s neck and head and moved forward, hungrily pressing their mouths together.

“So, what are we doing here?” Mickey asked as he pulled slowly out of the kiss.

“Well…” Ian smirked, “I’m actually a serial killer, and this is where I’ve come to kill you.”

“Heh, yeah?” Mickey laughed although a little bit of him was genuinely scared.

“Yeah, let me just get my knife…” Ian said rummaging in his backpack. Luckily, he pulled out a couple of joints, not a knife.

“Yes!” Mickey smiled and took one. “Fuck, I love - this.”

“You, Mickey, you are such a dork,” Ian laughed and took a short drag from his joint.

“Thank you, I try to be,” Mickey giggled.

“Fuck, Mickey.”

“What?”

“You’re fucking amazing.”

Mickey looked down and smiled, biting his lip.

Ian gently placed his hand on Mickey’s jaw, making him look up and kiss him.

“I love you, Mick.”

“No, you don’t,” Mickey pulled away.

Why? Why would Ian love him? He was fucking broken and worthless, he’d been called that so much, how could it not be true? He trusted Ian and would believe anything he said but, he thought the idea that anyone would love him was laughable.

“Yes, I do. I love you, Mickey. I know that you’ve got some fucked past but that’s made you, you, and I really fucking love you,” Ian intertwined their fingers.

“Fuck, Red…” Mickey laughed a little, nervously, “now I’m fucking blushing.”

“I know, it’s adorable,” Ian smiled and kissed his cheek.

“Fuck off,” Mickey smiled.

He wasn’t ready to say I love you. Not yet. But fuck off meant pretty much the same thing in this moment.


	10. Chapter Ten

Mickey sat at the end of their bed, running his fingers through his hair. He squinted in the dark at Ian. He looked so perfect and peaceful. Fuck. He didn’t deserve him.

Ian deserved someone who hadn’t been used like him.

Ian deserved someone who didn’t lie to him.

The guilt was making him feel sick. He tapped his foot in frustration and ran his fingers harshly through his hair.

He couldn’t have this relationship with Ian without telling him the truth.

Fuck. He needed Ian. If he told him what had happened, he’d surely leave. Run far fucking away from him.

“Mick?” Ian groaned, sitting up.

“Oh, just go back to sleep.”

“You OK?” Ian crawled to the end of the bed and wrapped his arms around Mickey’s waist and pulling him towards him.

“Yeah, just not tired,” he shrugged.

“You sure?” Ian asked, kissing Mickey’s neck.

“Yeah, yeah, just go back to sleep,” Mickey tried to wriggle out of his hold but that just made him strengthen his grip.

“What’s up, babe?”

“I’m fine, fuck!” Mickey flared.

There was a short pause and Mickey felt bad for snapping at Ian and expected him to let go and leave him but instead he held on.

“Mm, you’re cute when you’re mad,” Ian kissed Mickey’s shoulder and he gave in and relaxed in Ian’s arms.

“I’m not mad.”

“Sure you aren’t. Now come and sleep with me,” Ian mumbled and pulled them both back on the bed.

***

Ian woke first and rubbed his eyes, adjusting the bright morning sun.

He looked at his sleeping boyfriend. He was so fucking good-looking. His pale skin, his dark, hair, the odd freckles that were sprayed on his back. Every inch of the man was beautiful to Ian.

It wasn’t just his appearance that was beautiful. Mickey was so provocative and interesting without even knowing it. He had these little quirks that Ian loved. Whenever Ian tried to be affectionate he always fought it, just for a few seconds, but then he would just let it happen because he loved it.

But Mickey made Ian sad sometimes. Mickey’s mind would often wander and think about his past. It fucking broke him to hear what had happened to Mickey. Ian just wanted him to forget it and he didn’t care how many times he had to reassure him that he was here for him and always would be.

“Fuck you staring at?” Mickey woke up and rolled over to look at Ian.

“I’m not staring,” Ian smiled, intently staring into Mickey’s eyes.

“That so?” Mickey simpered.

He sat up and rolled himself onto Ian, straddling him, looking right into his eyes.

Ian raised an eyebrow and smirked at Mickey, daring him to make the next move.

Mickey slowly bit his lip and nodded. He lurched forward, however, he kissed him slowly and gently first. He began to grind down slowly on Ian’s already half-hard dick.

He let out a low groan at Mickey’s teasing and reached out to the bedside drawer to grab the lube and practically chucked it at Mickey.

Mickey shuffled himself down and squeezed the cool, slick lube on to his hand. He wrapped his fingers around Ian and ardently stroked his hand up and down.

“Mm, fuck,” Ian grumbled, “you gonna let me fuck you or not?”

Ian jerked his hips up into Mickey’s hand, lusting for more. Mickey crawled forward to lock their lips again.

Finally, finally, he sat up and pushed himself down onto Ian’s cock.

Fuck, Mickey was a beautiful sight. After Mickey had gradually got the first few inches in, he moaned softly and opened his eyes.

He gave Ian a small smirk before keenly thrusting down to fill himself with Ian, throwing his head back as he did so, not holding back a low, rumbling moan.

Ian could’ve came just hearing Mickey. He was so fucking sexy and just fucking insatiable. 

He was perfect;The eighth fucking wonder of the world.

He was that sweet and gentle, fairy tale boyfriend that Ian was embarrassed to admit he’d dreamed out. He was also that protective and feisty boyfriend, who would beat the shit out of anyone Ian asked him to. And to top it all off, he was fucking good at sex.

Ian was close and he wanted to make sure Mickey was too. He reached out and stroked Mickey’s dick in time with his thrusts.

“Mm, fuck, Gallagher,” Mickey loudly moaned.

“Say my name, Mickey, come on,” Ian gripped down hard on Mickey’s hips.

“Fuck, Ian, Ian,” Mickey cried out in a raspy and desperate voice as he came in hot spurts into Ian’s hand on his chest.

Mickey continued to roll his hips onto Ian until he filled him with his heated release.

He stayed on top of Ian for a moment. Both of them relishing this perfect moment. The heavy, quick panting, the heat of skin on skin, and the lazy, satisfied look on the other’s face.

Mickey kissed Ian before getting off him and stretching.

“Fuck,” Mickey mumbled and grinned. “Shower?”

***

They had gotten showered, dressed, and had successfully changed the sheets. Ian spotted the lube had rolled on the floor and picked it up and opened the drawer.

“Oh shit, nice,” Ian smiled and pulled out the 9mm.

“Oh, hey, be careful,” Mickey stepped back and nervously laughed.

 

“Loaded?” Ian smirked, holding the gun in his hand and pointing it at the wall.

“Yeah, be careful,” Mickey repeated.

“Yeah, whatever,” Ian laughed, “You ever shoot anyone?”

“This is South Side, what do you think?” Mickey reached out to take the gun from Ian but he moved quickly away.

“What do you mean?” Ian stepped away.

“Nothing, I mean nothing, just put the gun back,” Mickey felt his face go hot and a panic started to rumble in his stomach.

Ian looked down at the gun, and back at Mickey. “Who did you shoot?”

“Come on, Red. I don’t wanna talk about this shit,” Mickey scratched his neck and kept his head down, he couldn’t force himself to make eye contact.

“What happened, Mick?” Ian softly asked. He’d walked closer to him now, almost pressing him against the wall so he couldn’t avoid him.

“Ian, please,” Mickey started to beg, even though he knew he was probably sounding like a bitch.

“Mickey,” Ian’s voice was soft but the grip on his arm was stern and forceful, “if you’re going to be my boyfriend, I have to know who you shot. Got to know if I have to be scared, OK?”

Mickey breathed a frustrated sigh and leant back against the wall. He slipped down the wall and sat on the floor, burying his head in his hands.

“No, no, no, fuck, no,” Mickey murmured to himself.

Ian sat down next to him and put an arm around his shoulder to comfort him. “Mick, please.”

“No, fuck, no, you don’t understand, it was self defence, fuck,” Mickey hit his head hard back against the wall, hoping to end this talk before it got too far. “I didn’t mean to kill them.”

“You killed someone?” Ian’s voice was reassuring and safe.

Ian was right. If they were going to be a couple, he had to tell him the truth. Otherwise, he’d never be able to leave it behind. It’ll always be there, that little whisper at four in the morning, reminding him what he’d done.

“I’ve killed two people,” Mickey confessed.

Ian stayed silent, but rubbed his shoulder, reassuring him and encouraging him to carry on.

“I don’t think I meant to kill them. Both of them. It just happened.”

“What happened?”

“I came home late, I was hoping he’d be asleep. But he was fucked up on coke or something. Screaming at me. Then, then -” Mickey shook his head angrily. “Then he launched at me. I was used to that from him. I wasn’t a stranger to being hit by him.”

Mickey took a moment to breathe and rub at the tears that had managed to escape.

“Who?” Ian asked.

“Uh, fuck,” Mickey grinded his teeth, he hated to say his name, “Connor. My ex.”

“Oh.”

“This time was different. He was fucked up, yeah? This time he had a fucking knife. He was going to - going to. Fuck! He was going to kill me. Like I said, self defence?”

“I understand,” Ian kissed Mickey’s forehead and frowned at his sad face. “How did you get away with it?”

“Called the police, told them he was fucked on drugs and shot himself. Worked.”

Ian nodded rested his head on Mickey’s.

Mickey let out a sigh of relief.

Ian was still here. Ian was still telling him that it was OK, he was still rubbing his shoulder, he was still holding him. He accepted what happened, and fuck, Mickey was relieved.

This was it.

It was time to lock that part of his past in a weighted box and chuck that shit in the ocean, never to think about or see again.

Ian was also relieved. Mickey seemed to relax. He was glad that Mickey had confessed what happened. It meant they could go into this relationship without any seriously fucked up things in their past. And he hoped this meant Mickey would stop dwelling on his past.

They sat there for a while. Ian was going to ask about the other person Mickey had said he killed, but decided against it. It could wait.

“You’re not gonna leave me, are you?” Mickey finally broke the long silence.

“Huh? No, fuck no. You’re mine, now,” Ian brushed his fingers across Mickey’s cheek before holding his jaw and kissing him.

“I- fuck,” Mickey stuttered and laughed, “I fucking - heh - I think, you’re fucking amazing.”

“And I love you too,” Ian laughed a little as well and kissed him again.

***

After that, everything was more relaxed.

Ian noticed the change. Mickey laughed and smiled more. The random moments where Mickey would distance and refuse to talk about what was wrong, had gone. Mickey was Mickey, and, fuck, Ian was just fell in love even more as the days passed.

Twenty three days - to be exact - since that morning.

Ian had practically moved in although, thanks to Fiona, he often spent a couple of nights a week at home. Ian was everywhere in Mickey’s apartment. His clothes were stuffed in drawers and strewn on the floor. His side of the bed - and his side of the sofa- smelt like him.

He’d stopped going to school. Mickey protested this greatly but Ian was firm and he was failing anyway. Mickey had made him take his GED, which he managed to pass. He spent his days sat at the bar, watching Mickey serve customers and endlessly flirting with him.

Just a couple of days ago, Kev had made a joke about Ian being there so much he might as well give him a job. Now here he was, third day on the job.  
Ian was a little sad when Kev gave them both a lecture on how it is unprofessional to flirt with coworkers. And, if they were going to fuck, to do it after they’d closed up and clean after themselves.

Mickey’s face was flushed red during the speech.

There were still two shadows that followed Mickey. But in this beautiful, happiness, they were dimmed and he barely thought about them.

He still hadn’t told Ian about the other person he’d killed. But Ian didn’t seem to mind.

There was one thing that Mickey was certain Ian probably minded. He still hadn’t told him that he loved him.

It’s not that he didn’t love Ian, fuck, he loved Ian. He was so in love with Ian. There was something holding him back. He just hadn’t found the ‘perfect’ moment yet.

“What you thinkin’ about?” Ian asked and smiled at Mickey.

He was stood a few feet away from him at the bar, they had discussed the rules for work, and Ian respected Mickey when he said he didn’t want any touching or anything too flirtatious, it was the kind of thing a lot of South Side folks wouldn’t be too pleased to see.

“Nothing,” Mickey bit his lip and lied.

“Mhm? I believe you,” Ian said in a dramatically sarcastic voice.

“That’s because I was telling the truth,” Mickey shrugged and couldn’t help giving Ian a wide smile.

“It’s alright, I already know what you’re thinking.”

“Yeah? What am I thinking about?”

“You are thinking about…” Ian tightly shut his eyes, pretending to attempt to read Mickey’s mind. “You are thinking about what I am going to do to you tonight as soon as we shut this bar,” he said, keeping his voice low so that only Mickey could hear.

Mickey cocked his eyebrow. “How’d you know?”

“I’m a fucking psychic, Mick,” Ian laughed.

Mickey thought for a second about what he said. Fuck. Was he serious? “Wait, what ARE you going to do to me?”

Ian just shrugged his shoulders and winked. “You’ll have to wait and see.”


	11. Chapter Eleven

Finally, everyone had left, ten minutes after closing time. Ian locked the door from the inside and walked back over to Mickey with a smirk on his face.

“So…” Mickey licked his lips, “what are we going to do?”

“It’s a surprise, sit down,” Ian motioned towards the bar stools.

Mickey was a little confused but sat down anyway. Ian sat next to him, hauling his backpack on top of the bar.

He unzipped the bag and pulled out a white cloth, some ink, and, a pen?

“Made it myself,” Ian smiled and showed Mickey his creation.

He’d attached a needle onto the pen, held on with some string and sticky tape.

“Tattoo pen? Why not just get an actual tattoo? I know you’ve got ID.”

“It’s not as special that way,” Ian frowned. “Plus, it’s not me getting the tattoo, it’s you.”

“Me? And when did I consent to this?” Mickey laughed. It’s not that he didn’t trust Ian to give him a tattoo, it’s just that he’d rather not get an infection.

“Come on, Mick, do you trust me?” Ian moved closer to his face and breathed against his neck.

“Mm, fuck,” Mickey sighed, “You know that I trust you. What did you want to tattoo?”

“My name.”

“Your name? I don’t know, like, what if we…” Mickey trailed off. It wasn’t something he wanted to think about.

“Yeah, sorry, never going to happen. You’re mine,” Ian nipped Mickey’s neck, taking him by surprise.

“Fuck, fine,” Mickey gave in, “Where?”

“Your back, so start stripping,” Ian laughed and stood up behind Mickey and helped pull his shirt off.

“Don’t fuck this up,” Mickey said, half-joking, half-serious.

“I’ll have you know, I’m a highly skilled artist,” Ian laughed and kissed the back of Mickey’s neck. “Besides, it’s three letters, how hard could it be?”

“Don’t fucking jinx it either.”

“Yeah, yeah, got it,” Ian got the cloth a little damp and wiped it at the top of his back, just on his neck.

He dipped the needle in ink and stabbed it into his skin, a little ‘pop’ sound meant it had gone in.

“That hurt?” Ian asked, making sure he wasn’t going to hurt Mickey.

“I got my fucking knuckles tattooed, this is nothing.”

Ian made the three lines for the ‘I’ quickly and then traced over them a couple of times, using the cloth to wipe any stray ink and the tiny amounts of blood.

 

The ‘I’ was done. It was a little swollen from being freshly poked, but, it looked good, and Ian smiled at his artwork.

“You done?” Mickey questioned as he felt Ian stop poking.

“That was just the I, Mick, two more letters to go.”

“Well hurry the fuck up, it aches to sit like this.”

Soon, Ian’s name was on Mickey’s skin. He wiped the cloth across the tattoo one more time, and smiled. Ian knew full well that he was possessive, but Mickey didn’t complain.  


He just felt the desire to make Mickey his. And now he really was.

 

“Take a picture and show me,” Mickey said, handing Ian his phone.

“It’s a little swollen at the moment, don’t worry, though. I’ll show you when it’s normal looking.”

“I swear, Ian Gallagher, you are a dead man if I found out you’ve tattooed a cartoon dick on my back,” Mickey laughed and jumped off the stool to stretch.

Mickey went to grab his shirt but Ian took it first.

“My shirt, please?” Mickey reached out and Ian shook his head.

“No way, you look too hot like that,” Ian traced his fingers over Mickey’s chest.

“Can I give you a tat?” Mickey asked hopefully.

“Hm, depends what you’re going to tattoo?”

Mickey hummed as he thought. “You did your name, I could do mine?”

“Oh no, no. Ian is three letters, Mikhailo is… a lot more than that.”

“Woah, how the fuck do you know my name,” Mickey shook his head, fuck did he hate being called that.

“You’re sister? Plus, I know everything about, you can’t hide anything from me,” Ian laughed. “How about just an ‘M’?”

“OK, but you have to give me my shirt back,” Mickey put his hand out.

Ian pouted. He sighed, shook his head, and sat back down next to him.

“Do it on my wrist,” Ian said and put his hand on Mickey’s lap.

Doing the ‘M’ took longer than it took Ian to write three letters. Every couple of pokes Mickey kept asking Ian if he was OK. He was scared he’d poke a vein or something but Ian kept reassuring him he was fine.

The ‘M’ was done and Mickey smiled and nodded. “Looks pretty fucking good.”

“Yeah it does,” Ian agreed with him and kissed Mickey.

Mickey leant into the kiss as it got deeper. He got so lost in the kiss that he forgot he was sitting on a separate bar stool and fell straight to the floor when he tried leaning in more.

“Not funny,” Mickey sternly said but was soon laughing alongside Ian.

“Yeah it is,” Ian laughed at Mickey sat on his ass on the floor.

He stood up and reached his hand out to pull Mickey up.

“Do I get my shirt back now?”

“Nice try, Milkovich, but you’ve got to win it back.”

“Fuck me, Red, it’s fucking cold,” Mickey tutted, beginning to get impatient.

Ian smirked and wandered back around the bar, Mickey following behind.

“Sure, to win your shirt back, you simply have to win my game.”

“What’s the game?”

“The rules are simple, and to start, you’ve got to hold onto the bar,” he motioned to the pole that ran across the bar.

Mickey was a little confused, but also intrigued, so he slowly turned around and gripped the pole.

Ian took a step back to admire Mickey. His name, thinly wrote in black, just at the top of his back stood out nicely so people would know who he belonged to. Fuck, Mickey had such a nice back. Ian softly traced his fingers on his shoulder blades and down his spine.

“Come the fuck on, what’s the game,” Mickey sighed, starting to feel a little exposed.

He glanced around. They were alone. The door was locked and the windows were non-existent. He relaxed a little as Ian stood close behind him and rested his hands on his  
waist.

“The objective is simple, all you’ve got to do is not let go.”

“What if I do?”

“Then it’s game over, and I’ll stop,” Ian smirked and kissed the back of Mickey’s neck.

Mickey leaned back, trying to chase Ian’s body heat as he stepped away. But he knew the rules of this game, and didn’t let go of the bar.

Mickey felt a warmth shiver through his body at the sound of Ian undoing his belt and his jeans being chucked to the side along with his t-shirt.

Ian grabbed Mickey’s hips and pulled them towards him, pressing his ass on his crotch.

Mickey smirked, “this game is going to be fucking easy.”

“That so?” Ian thought for a second. “There’s a new rule then, you’ve gotta be quiet.”

“What? Easy,” Mickey said, a little uncertain if he could keep quiet because he found it hard not to moan loudly and let Ian know how he was making him feel.

“Good luck,” Ian bites softly down on Mickey’s neck as his hand strokes down his chest and into his boxers to grasp at his already hard dick.

He stroked it slowly and let out a disappointed sigh when Mickey didn’t even seem to be struggling to keep quiet. Guess he’d have to make the game harder.

He took his hand out of Mickey’s trousers and pulled them down so they fell around his ankles. Mickey Mickey shivered a little, it was fucking cold and he was fucking horny and Ian was taking his time.

Ian fumbled in his pockets for the lube and squeezed it onto his hands, hastily covering his cock in it, hungry to just feel Mickey again.

Mickey bit hard on his lip to stop himself from moaning loudly.

Ian wanted to watch Mickey squirm so he pushed quickly in with no warning. He knew he succeeded as Mickey dropped his head forward and his moan was muted through his closed mouth.

He pushed in and out quickly, one hand latched possessively on Mickey’s hip, his fingers digging into him, the other hand on Mickey’s cock, slick and wet for him.

Mickey was feeling so much at once and this game was proving to be harder than he thought.

His hands were warm and had begun to sweat making it harder to grip the bar. And fuck, Ian was doing so much at once, Mickey had to squeeze his eyes shut and bite his tongue.

“Mm, such a good boy, Mickey,” Ian smiled and bit the side of Mickey’s neck, sucking a little to leave a little mark so people would know he belonged to someone.

Mickey couldn’t help the small moan that escaped his mouth at that name.

Ian stopped and slowed down. “You were doing so well,” he tutted, “I guess I was being a bit mean. You can make as much noise as you want.”

Ian thrust quickly into him and picked up the pace again.

“Uh, fuck!” Mickey was glad he could let out what he was holding back.

“Say it, Mickey, say my name,” Ian groaned as he knew he was getting close.

“Mm, fuck, Ian, Ian!” Mickey moaned like some fucking whore as he came into Ian’s hand.

Ian groaned and kissed the tattoo on Mickey back as he spilled into him. He pulled out and stepped back, panting heavily.

“You can take your hands of the bar now,” Ian laughed a little looking at Mickey who looked ruined.

His hair was tousled and stuck to his forehead. His face and chest were flushed a dark pink. Ian’s release was slipping down his thighs. His knuckles were pale as they still gripped strongly at the bar.

“Need - a fucking - second,” Mickey panted as Ian rubbed the warm, damp cloth up his legs, cleaning him up.

Mickey pulled and zipped up his trousers and went to grab his shirt. “Can I finally have my shirt?” Mickey laughed.

“Mhm,” Ian passed it to him, tracing his fingers over his own name in black ink before Mickey covered it.

“I guess I win then,” Mickey jubilantly smiled and licked his lips.

“Yeah, guess you did win,” Ian pressed his lips tenderly on Mickey’s.

Mickey knew he was probably being soppy, but he felt that when Ian told him he won, he wasn’t talking about their little game, it just meant so much more.

***

When they got home, both of them were so exhausted that they collapsed in front of the TV, a beer each, and Mickey lazily rested his head on Ian’s chest.

Ian absentmindedly trailed his fingers on Mickey’s arms as Mickey intently watched the rerun of last week’s Hell’s Kitchen, even though he’d watched it just as intently when it aired.

“Ow!” Ian felt little sharp teeth bite his finger and shook his head at the kitten trying to gnaw it off. “He’s getting too big to be allowed to bite fingers.”

“Yeah, but it’s adorable and it’s his favourite food,” Mickey defended Watson.

“Can’t believe you’re just letting your baby abuse me like this!” Ian sarcastically said.

“He’s your baby now as well, you should discipline him, train him,” Mickey shrugged.

“I can discipline him?”

“Fuck no, you hurt him and you’re dead, Gallagher,” Mickey laughed, watching Watson dig his claws in Ian’s hand whilst trying to separate his finger from his body.

“Can you at least pull him off my hand?” Ian shook his hand trying to shake him off.

“Aw, you need me to save you from a two pound kitten?”

“Mikhailo, please.”

“Don’t call me that,” Mickey rolled his eyes and pulled Watson gently off Ian’s hand. “Was that so difficult?”

“Yes it was, thank you,” Ian sleepily laughed and yawned loudly. “Can we go to bed now?”

“Come on, it’s got ten minutes,” Mickey pleaded, even though he was feeling so tired as well.

“You’re a fucking dork,” Ian grinned and kissed Mickey’s forehead, shuffling a little so he could lie down on the sofa, rolling Mickey on top of him.

“How am I supposed to watch my show like this?” Mickey smiled and tried to turn his head to look at the TV to prove his point. “See?”

“Mm, but I want to see your face,” Ian frowned, trying to give Mickey puppy dog eyes.

“You’ve seen it enough,” Mickey gave Ian a quick peck on the nose before slipping off him so that he could see the TV and Ian could still hold him.

“Not enough, could never get bored of it,” Ian mumbled.

“Go to sleep, Red,” Mickey whispered and turned the volume down a bit on the TV.

“Mm, love you,” Ian murmured into Mickey’s neck before falling asleep with Mickey comfortably in his arms.

***

“So…” Ian smirked and leaned back on the kitchen counter as Mickey made Ian and himself an Irish coffee to start the weekend.

“Yeah?” Mickey asked, handing Ian his drink.

“What you getting me for my birthday?” Ian sipped his drink.

“Your birthday? When is it?” Mickey joked, Ian hadn’t shut up about it for the past couple of days.

“Monday,” Ian answered, like he hadn’t mentioned that a hundred times already.

“Hm, I don’t know. Still thinking about what to get you,” Mickey lied.

He had already got Ian his present. In fact, he had gotten his present a couple of weeks ago but had been uncertain about it. It was time though, and Mickey was excited.

“That so? There is one thing I really want…” Ian trailed off and kissed Mickey. He pulled away from the kiss and winked.

“What will that be?”

“Your sexy ass,” Ian laughed and playfully slapped Mickey’s ass as he stepped back.

“You’ll have to wait and see,” Mickey smiled and leaned up, raising his feet of the ground ever so slightly, loving the fact that Ian was just that bit taller, and kissed his pale, freckle splashed cheek, “I can tell you one of your presents now, if you’d like.”

Ian nodded curiously.

“I spoke to Kev, got us the day off, so we can really do whatever the fuck you want.”

Ian grinned widely, “fuck yeah! I love you, Mick,” Ian cupped Mickey’s cheeks and kissed him.

Mickey felt his face go hot and tried to turn away.

“Oh! I’m having a party at the Gallagher house, but don’t worry, it’s just family, Kev and V.”

“Oh… cool. I’ll drive you there," Mickey stepped away, disappointed that he wasn't going to be spending the day with Ian.

“What? You’re invited?”

“Oh, you just said it was just family,” Mickey gulped back the last of his drink.

Ian laughed. “Don’t be stupid, babe, you’re family!”

“I am?” Mickey looked up at Ian, his stomach filled with the rumbling butterflies of nerves and he didn’t know if he was going to puke or not.

“Of course you are,” Ian kissed him softly, smiling into the kiss as Mickey’s hands wrapped around his neck.


	12. Chapter Twelve

“I think I’m just going to go home,” Mickey shrugged as they pulled up outside the Gallagher house. “Enjoy, though.”

“What? No, Mickey, it’ll be no fun without you,” Ian said and rubbed his hand lightly on Mickey’s thigh, knowing this is usually how he got his way.

“I don’t know, there’s gonna be loads of people, not my thing.”

“There won’t be that many people, Mandy will be there as well.”

Mickey shook his head, “I don’t know. Are you - out - to your family?”

“Yeah, you?”

He nodded, “I just, uh, fine.”

“Thank you,” Ian leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Just stick with me, you’ll be fine.”

They stepped out of the car and Mickey squinted up at the house. It was a pretty nice house; nicer than the Milkovich house, and obviously nicer than Mickey’s little apartment.

Mickey felt the anxiety rumble inside him. He just didn’t like to be around so many people, but when Ian wrapped his arm around his waist and walked him up the steps, he relaxed a little.

“Hey!” Ian shouted as they walked into the house.

Mickey shrugged Ian’s arm off and stepped aside as various family members came up to Ian to hug him and welcome him in.

The house was decorated in colourful paper streamers and two of the younger ones were kicking a balloon about until one of them stomped on it and popped it with a bang.

The sofas had been moved since the last time Mickey was here, to make room for a couple of bean bags and another chair. There were bottles of beers, spirits and a large bottle of orange soda on the coffee table as well as pizza boxes and salty chips and dip.

Kev was sat on one of the chairs with his girlfriend in his lap. The two kids sat on the bean bags. Fiona and Lip sat on another sofa by themselves as Mandy had abandoned Lip to come sit with her best friend. Mickey sat awkwardly next to them, rubbing his hands together nervously.

It didn’t take long for everyone to get bored of the movie so they switched to loud music, shots, and chattering noisily. Mickey preferred this, it was more comfortable as he started to drink.

The little girl, Debbie, sat on the arm of the sofa next to him, staring.

“Can I help you?” Mickey asked, feeling slightly unnerved.

“I was just wondering,” she thought for a second before she spoke, “are you Ian’s boyfriend, like Jimmy Steve is Fiona’s boyfriend?”

“Huh?” Mickey looked to Ian who was just staring back to see what he was going to say. “Uh, no? I’m just his friend.”

“Oh,” she replied, looking disappointed.

“Actually, Debs, he is my boyfriend,” Ian declared, wrapping his arm around Mickey’s shoulder.

Mickey felt suddenly panicked. His eyes darted around the room, but no one seemed to care. He relaxed.

“That’s cool,” she said, “but, do you love him?”

Mickey bit his lip and looked at Ian for help. He just didn’t want to be having this conversation with some kid.

“Um-”

“Of course he does,” Ian smiled widely.

“Yeah,” Mickey muttered. “Anything else?” he asked, trying to get rid of her.

“Yes. Can I have your beer?” She reached out for his bottle.

Mickey shrugged and handed her the beer, there was only half left, it wouldn’t kill her.

Mickey sank back into the sofa after having another shot of vodka.

“Hey, can I speak to you?” Mandy tapped his shoulder.

“I guess,” Mickey stood up from the sofa and followed her outside.

It was cold. Mandy was just wearing a sleeveless dress so he handed her his jacket.

“Thanks,” she said, taking a cigarette from his pocket.

“What did you want?”

She looked at him, frowning sadly.

“Ian mentioned something to me, and I want to know if it’s true, because I feel bad.”

“Well, spit it out,” Mickey said impatiently, wondering what the hell Ian had told her.

“It’s - um - well, did Conor… abuse you? Like, it wasn’t you who abused him, the other way round.”

He shook his head. Why the fuck did she care? Why did Ian have to tell her? He died ages ago, he’d forgotten about that fucker, why the fuck did she have to bring him up again?

“It’s just, Ian said-”

“Fuck what Ian said!” Mickey shouted at her. “I didn’t get abused or raped or nothing, I ain’t some fucking vulnerable kid anymore. OK, so maybe he did fucking hit me, I probably fucking deserved it. Maybe I had sex with him when I didn’t want to, so what? It’s the fucking past, don’t fucking bother with it.”

Mandy stood back and shoved his jacket into his arms. “I was just trying to be nice. You know? Looking out for my brother. No need to act like a bitch about it.”

She flicker her cigarette onto the ground and stormed back inside, slamming the door behind her.

“Fuck!” Mickey shouted kicking an empty china plant pot down the steps and letting out his anger as it shattered.

He leant back against the house and fumbled in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. Great, Mandy had taken the last fucking one.

Mickey wandered down the steps towards his care. He figured it was just best to leave.

The door behind him opened and closed but Mickey didn’t bother turning around.

“Where are you going?” Mickey turned to see Ian walking towards him.

“Oh, I just thought I’d go home. Sorry, it’s getting pretty late,” Mickey stepped away from him.

Ian smiled, confusing Mickey.

“Fuck you smiling for?”

“I was going to ditch anyway,” Ian reached out and took the keys from him.

Mickey snatched the keys back. “You’ve drank way more than me.”

“Mhm, please?” Ian murmured gently pushing Mickey up against the car, taking advantage of his extra height.

Mickey tried to straighten himself up to push Ian back but, fuck. Ian’s strong arms held him against the car and when Mickey was forced to look up into his eyes, he had that fucking smile that made Mickey just want to give him anything and everything he wanted.

“Fine, fuck,” Mickey handed him the keys but Ian still didn’t loosen his hold.

“I could just fuck you right here right now, doubt anyone would see,” Ian nipped lightly at Mickey’s neck.

His breath hitched, but he was not about to have sex in public, no matter what Ian’s words were making his body feel.

“You can wait until we get home,” Mickey wriggled out from his hold and opened the door to his car.

He watched as Ian walked around the front and laughed at him swaying his hips.

“You sure you can drive?” Mickey asked.

“Ummm no,” Ian slurred.

“What? No fucking way are you driving,” Mickey said sternly, going to grab the keys from his hands.

“Mick, babe, I’m kidding,” Ian laughed at Mickey who sunk back into his seat. “Aw, don’t sulk. I literally had one beer. It’s just so much better to fuck you when sober.”

Mickey looked out the window and smiled at the last comment. It gave him that perfect warm fuzzy feeling he just couldn’t put into words.

***

They fumbled into the apartment, keenly kissing each other as they made their way to the bedroom.

It was dark, but it wasn’t hard to find the bed. Mickey landed on top of Ian and pulled away from the kiss. He squinted at the redhead in the dark who was looking back with a small coy smile.

“You gonna ride me, Mick, huh?” Ian encouraged Mickey whilst grinding up on him.

Mickey nodded eagerly as he went to pull his t-shirt over his head.

“No, no,” Ian interjected and shook his head, “slowly.”

Mickey sighed, but nonetheless, he pulled his t-shirt slowly over his head as Ian stared, completely enthralled by Mickey’s body.

“Mm, much better,” he muttered.

He sat up to tenderly kiss Mickey’s mouth, running his tongue along his lips playfully.

Mickey's fingers ran under Ian’s t-shirt before he tugged it over his head.

Mickey had seen Ian’s bare chest a hundred times before but everytime felt like the first time and never failed to amaze him. He stretched his fingers across his shoulders and across his breast and noticed something different.

“You waxed?” Mickey as he pressed into the soft skin.

“Got bored,” Ian shrugged, “you like it?”

“It’s nice,” Mickey replied, leaning down to kiss his now waxed chest.

“You wanna find out what else I waxed?” Even in the dark, Mickey could see Ian's smirk.

“Really?” He dramatically exclaimed. “No… I liked them,” Mickey laughed.

“No,just my chest,” Ian laughed, “but I do want to fuck you so, carry on.”

Mickey smiled and leant back down to continue pressing soft kisses down his body before stopping at the top of his jeans.

He gently swiped a finger across the jean’s waistline and then pressed the palm of his hand down on Ian’s clothed dick. He was pleased to feel how hard he was already.

“You want me to ride you, hm?” Mickey asked, slowly moving his hand under Ian’s jeans.

“Yes, and if you don’t hurry the fuck up, I will just bend you over and fuck you my way.”

Something about the way Ian said that sent a hot shiver down Mickey’s spine and straight to his dick.

He fumbled with his jeans as Ian took his own off.

Mickey grabbed the cool lube and squeezed it generously onto Ian’s cock.

He was about to push down onto him when Ian grabbed his shoulders and flipped them both over.

“Huh?” Mickey raised a brow as Ian rolled him onto his stomach.

“Mm, shh, babe,” Ian murmured in his ear before nipping at his neck.

“Oh…” Mickey sighed as Ian trailed wet kisses down his neck and back.

He could feel Ian’s dick press hard against his ass and fuck, he needed to feel him.

Mickey pushed himself up, rubbing himself against Ian, wordlessly asking for him to fuck him; Ian was more than happy to comply as he lined himself up.

He pushed in, quicker than usual, and let out a low groan as he gripped Mickey’s hips to pull them up.

Mickey squeezed his eyes shut and didn't hold back his moans as they were muffled by the pillow he’d hidden his face on.

“Yes, uh,” Mickey panted as Ian quickly thrust into him.

“What was that?” Ian asked,his voice thick with lust.

He ran his fingers through Mickey’s short dark hair before gripping it and pulling at it so his face was lifted from the pillow muffling his moans.

“Fuck me,” Mickey whined and pushed his ass up to collide with Ian’s quick thrusts.

“Fuck, you're so good, so perfect,” Ian praised.

He slowed down the thrusts and let Mickey take control. There was something so fucking hot about the way he arched himself up to get what he wanted.

“Faster, fuck,” Mickey pleaded and Ian complied.

Ian wrapped his hand around Mickey’s cock and pumped it quickly as they both chased their release.

“Mm, fuck, Ian, I’m -” Mickey dropped his elbows and fell down to the bed as he came into Ian’s hand.

Ian followed a second later, filling Mickey with his heated release. He pulled out and let some drip down his thighs and onto the sheets. He grabbed Mickey to pull him on top of him to give him a happy satisfied smile in the dark.

They rolled off the bed and wiped themselves quickly with a towel that had been discarded on the floor. They changed the sheets quickly in silence before they both collapsed onto the bed, exhausted.

“Mick,” Ian whispered in the dark as he gently traced his fingers on the now healed tattoo on his back.

“Mm, yeah?” Mickey yawned.

“I love you,” Ian mumbled and kissed the back of his neck.

He didn’t get a reply; He didn’t expect one.

 

***

There were several high pitched mewling sounds, the quiet tapping of soft paws on the thick duvet, before little sharp teeth sunk into his ear.

“Watson!” Ian shouted, pulling the kitten off his ear.

“What? Hello? Fuck!” Mickey woke up immediately at the sound of Ian shouting.

“Sorry, he tried to eat me,” Ian apologised and passed the tiny human-eating kitten to Mickey.

“Can't blame him,” Mickey smirked, “you're so delicious.” Mickey leaned over and placed his lips around Ian’s neck, biting a little to leave a pink smudge.

“Mickey! Right in front of the child!” Ian laughed and scolded him.

Mickey got out of the bed, taking Watson with him. He dropped Watson out of the room (after shaking him off the finger he was trying to eat) and closed the door.

He turned around at the perfect time. Just in time to watch Ian pull his shirt over his head and make Mickey forget how to speak for a moment.

“Fuck, you're so cute,” Ian laughed and cupped Mickey’s cheek.

“I'm not cute,” Mickey tried to look away but Ian leant forward and matched their lips together.

“It's my birthday tomorrow,” Ian stated as he pulled away from the kiss.

Mickey laughed, “yeah, you've said, like a hundred fucking times.”

“Just reminding you, you got me anything?”

“Maybe, don't get your hopes up though, it's just something small,” Mickey shied away as his mind strayed to the gift he’d bought.

It really was something small. Literally small. But it meant a lot and took a lot of courage to decide to give it to him. It made his stomach rumble with butterflies that uncomfortably thrashed about and made him want to throw up. Nonetheless, he was excited.

“I bet I'll love it,” Ian turned away to continue to get dressed. “So, what are we doing today?”

“Huh? Don’t know,” he apathetically shrugged as he stripped and changed his clothes.

“Well, my birthday is exactly three weeks before Christmas and you haven’t decorated yet.”

“What? Christmas? Nah, I don’t usually decorate.” Mickey scoffed slightly at the idea of decorating. He didn’t see the point. He usually just got Mandy some money and a card, and they’d get drunk and watch Christmas movies. No need to fancy the place up.

Ian dramatically gasped and dropped his jacket, “no!”

“Woah, calm down,” he reached out and touched Ian’s shoulder.

“No,” he repeated as if he couldn't believe it. “You have to decorate, it’s fun.”

“I don’t see the point. Besides, I’ve got no decorations. I’ve never bothered.”

Ian looked stunned. He shook his head in disbelief. “We’re going out and buying some fucking decorations today.”

Mickey shrugged. He knew he didn’t have a choice in this, Ian had that bold, determined look that meant he was going to get his way. But, it did seem like a good way to spend the day.

“Well, hurry up, let’s go,” Ian grabbed the car keys and chucked Mickey his jacket.

“We’re not in a rush,” Mickey took his time to put on his jacket although Ian was practically dragging him out of the door.

When they got in the car, Mickey checked to see if Mandy had texted him - she hadn’t.

Mickey (13:02): sorry for getting angry yesterday

Mandy (13:03): did ian go home w/ u?

Mickey (13:03): yeh. U mad at me?

Mandy (13:08): no

Mickey rolled his eyes. Clearly she was still mad if it took her that long to send that shit. Ugh.

“You OK there?” Ian looked over at Mickey, who was staring intently at his phone.

“Yeah. Had a fight with Mandy yesterday and she’s still pissed off.”

“Oh. She’ll come around. She fights with Lip all the time and always gets over it, don’t worry. Just try and enjoy today, yeah?” Ian smiled warmly at him and placed a reassuring hand on his thigh.

“Where we going?” Mickey asked.

“Mall. We can get some food first.”

“Good. I’m fucking starving,” Mickey laughed.

 

They sat down at a table in the food court with a box of pizza and a bottle of orange pop. The greasy cheese stretched and dripped onto the box as they pulled the slices apart, then filled their mouths with delightfully cheesy, spicy pizza.

They ate the pizza quietly before they both felt too stuffed to continue. The half empty pizza box and empty pop bottle were chucked into the bin.

“We’ll go in here,” Ian tugged Mickey’s sleeve and pulled him into one of the stores.

It was the kind of store that sold pretty much anything, but was seasonally decorated with green and red streamers and the tinkling of Christmas music played in the background.

Ian picked up a shopping basket as they approached the isles.

“So, uh, what exactly do we need?” Mickey had never really gone out of his way to buy shit that wasn’t food or alcohol.

“Tree?” Ian pointed at their display of Christmas trees, real and fake.

“No, can’t be bothered.”

“Please?” He pouted and Mickey shook his head. “You can’t do Christmas without a tree, Mick.”

“Fine,” Mickey sighed, “buy what you want.”

“Yes! Thank you. I love y- Christmas trees,” Ian quickly saved himself, he knew Mickey’s rules about being in public.

Ian picked at the Christmas trees. He was taking his time like there was some kind of important science into buying the perfect tree.

“This one,” Mickey pointed at a random box, getting bored of watching Ian shake his head at them all.

“That’s only just taller than you,” Ian giggled, “plus, it’s fake.”

“Well, I only want a small one, and it has to be fake, cats will probably be allergic or some shit,” Mickey shrugged, “just thinking of my babies.”

Ian smiled at his boyfriend and shook his head, muttering something about him being cute. He picked up the small box and handed it to Mickey, who reluctantly took it and dragged it across the floor as they wandered to the other isles filled with shimmering, glittery decorations.

Ian is soon filling their basket with the basic baubles and a few more special, decorated ones. He turns and holds them up at Mickey everytime and he nods. Fuck, Mickey would give him the fucking moon, stars, and all the planets he could find if he asked.

“That’s a lot of fairy lights,” Mickey finally said as Ian put another box of them in the basket.

“You’re so foolish, Mickey,” Ian smiled, “it is a common fact that you can never have enough of these.”

The basket was almost full and they had reached the end of the festive isles.

“Vodka and smokes, then can we go?” Mickey sighed.

It wasn’t that he was bored. In fact, Mickey was far from it. He loved seeing how excited Ian got when he would pick up a random little trinket and proceed to give Mickey a speech on why they needed this exact decoration.

Mickey even had to admit, they’d gotten some cool decorations. Mickey’s favourite decoration was the little cat wearing a Christmas hat, trapped inside a little glass dome that created the impression of snow if you were to shake it. Ian pointed out that the cat looked like Minerva, and Mickey smiled and agreed.

Mickey reached in his jacket to pull out his card and wallet but Ian got there first.

“You have ID?” The perky brunette behind the counter asked as she helped to bag their items.

“Oh, yeah,” Ian handed her his fake drivers license.

“Thank you, mm, Mr Daniels,” she spoke slowly and twirled her hair around her fingers and Mickey had to stifle a laugh at both the fake ID and the fact that this woman was trying to flirt with him.

Ian smiled awkwardly but politely as he payed using his card. They took their bags and walked out the store, both of them laughing as soon as they had gotten out.

“Oh, Mr Andrew Daniels,” Mickey dramatically whispered, trying to impersonate the lady, “Please just bend me over this till right now and fuck me!”

Ian was laughing so hard they had to stop so he could clutch his stomach and pull himself together.

They filled the trunk of the car and sat in the seats, Mickey taking the keys and driver seat this time.

They drove out of the parking lot with big smiles on their faces as their laughing calmed down.

“I, uh, had a good day,” Mickey muttered.

“Yeah, it was fun,” Ian grinned and looked over to Mickey, who was biting his lip with a distant look in his eyes. “You alright?”

“I’m just sad it’s over.”

Ian laughed, “that what you’re moping about? It’s not over yet, we’ve still got to decorate.”

“Oh fuck yeah,” Mickey perked up, “we should definitely get shit-faced while we do it.”

“Fuck yeah, whatever you want,” Ian leaned quickly over to give him a small kiss on the cheek.

***

They both stood back, admiring their little Christmas tree.

The decorations were odd and mismatched but, it was perfect. The apartment also had other decorations as well. A couple of snowglobes, fairy lights thrown in random places, and tiny festive trinkets on the surfaces.

Minerva and her two kittens sniffed curiously at the ornaments and had already managed to knock the tree over twice.

“Close your eyes,” Ian demanded as he sped around the room, switching the dainty fairy lights on.

“What?”

“Please, close your eyes,” Ian wandered towards Mickey as he closed his eyes.

Mickey heard the flick of the light switch and Ian walking behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his head on his shoulders.

“Open,” Ian whispered in his ear.

The room was beautiful. It glowed with the warm white lights. Various decorations sparkled and reflected the lights. The whole apartment was transformed into something so gorgeous.

Mickey leant his head back into Ian, relishing the warmth of his body pressed against his back.

Mickey turned around so he was now held close to Ian’s face.

“You like?” Ian smiled and kissed him so tenderly.

This was the moment.

It was perfect.

“Fuck,” Mickey nervously laughed, “I love -.”

“KNOCK! KNOCK! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!”


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Whoever was behind that door was about to get their fucking ass kicked. Mickey felt the anger like a hot current buzz through him. Who the fuck did this person think they were? Ruining this perfect fucking moment?

Mickey glared at the door as someone pounded on it once again demanding that it be opened.

He looked up at Ian, who was drifting towards the door, looking confused rather than angry.

Ian opened the door and Lip barged in, followed by Mandy.

“Stay away from my fucking brother!” Lip lurched towards Mickey but he stepped out of the way, making Lip stumble at the wall.

“What the fuck, Lip?” Ian pulled Lip up by his shirt.

“I'm trying to protect you from this fucked up piece of shit,” Lip slurred his words and his words smelt like cheap, shitty vodka.

“The fuck is happening?” Mickey darted his eyes around the room.

Ian held Lip against the wall and Mandy stood back, watching them.

“Bet he hasn't told you what he did, huh?” Lip spat on the ground, looking slightly amused.

“Fuck are you talking about?” Mickey stepped towards the drunk fuck.

Mandy looked at Mickey, her eyes were wide with either fear or sadness, he couldn't tell. “Mick, I’m sorry,” she stepped back a little.

Ian let go of his brother’s shirt and stepped back, confusion spread on his face. “What hasn't he told me?”

“Better watch your next few words, asshole,” Mickey took another step closer to Ian’s brother.

Lip shook his head, “Ian, he fucking killed his da. He's a fucking murderer.”

Ian made eye contact with Mickey but looked down at the ground almost instantly.

“Fuck off, you don't know the fucking story,” Mickey crowded Lip against the wall, fingers gripping tightly at his shirt.

“I told him, Mick, sorry,” Mandy tried to gently tug her brother away but he yanked his arm away from her.

“Fuck you running your mouth for? Huh? Wanna get me fucking arrested? Who's gonna protect you if I go to fucking jail? Huh?” Mickey held his fist in her direction, making her stagger back in fear.

“Mickey, please, I was drunk and bitter, I didn't mean to,” she pleaded.

Mickey glanced at Ian to see his view on this whole fucking situation but he was just looking down at the ground, digging his shoe in the carpet.

What the fuck? Why does he seem so upset over this? He was fucking fine when he told him about Conor.

Now Mickey was really fucking pissed off as Lip started spouting stories about how his dad wasn't THAT bad and how everyone has fucking daddy issues, doesn't mean you should shoot them in their fucked up heads.

He'd heard enough. Now he wanted to see some fucking blood.

Mickey chucked his fist into Lip’s face and grabbed his shirt to pull him to the ground.

Lip threw punches up towards Mickey, but he had the advantage from on top of him. That was until - after only a few good punches - strong, freckled arms were pulling him away.

“No - fuck - let - go!” Mickey threw his fists into the air and tried to get back to Lip but Ian had tugged him off his brother.

Ian straddled Mickey to hold him down, seemingly unaffected by Mickey’s purposefully weak (in fear of hurting Ian) attempts to shove him away.

“No! Fuck!” Mickey tried to sit up when Ian surprised him.

A hard slap against his cheek. Cold and callous and sharp.

Mickey stopped struggling at once.

He looked to the side, away from Ian, and watched Mandy drag Lip out of the apartment, the door slammed deafeningly behind them.

Mickey felt tears stab the corners of his eyes and blood trickle from his nose from one of the very few successful punches from Lip.

He finally looked at Ian.

He looked real fucking upset. And it was hurting Mickey.

“Mickey, I - fuck - I didn't mean -” Ian wiped angrily at the hot tears staining his reddened cheeks.

“Yeah, I understand,” Mickey sighed and kept a straight face.

He didn't see the big deal behind him getting slapped. Conor did much worse more often, Mickey just kind of assumed that's the norm in relationships.

But Ian was mumbling ‘sorry’ over and over like a broken fucking record.

“Fuck, Ian. It's fine, OK?” Mickey impatiently said, hoping Ian would get off him soon.

“It's not. Fuck!” Ian snapped.

“Conor always used to say that it's -”

“Fuck what he said! I'm not him and I'm not going to turn into him, OK? It's not OK to hurt someone you love,” Ian leaned down and kissed the cheek he’d thrown his hand across.

Mickey nodded, although he was still considering the words.

“It's late,” Mickey stated.

“I'll help clean you up.”

“I'm fine,” Mickey snapped but calmed down a little looking at the hurt look on Ian’s face. “Just wait for me in the bedroom, yeah? We can sleep this night off, dwell on it tomorrow, yeah?”

Ian slowly got up from on top of Mickey and helped pull Mickey off the floor. Ian went to give Mickey a kiss but he had already walked off to lock himself in the bathroom.

***

Mickey lay in the bed next to a snoring Ian and stared at the ceiling, his mind running over and over what had happened.

He was overthinking; And he knew it. But sometimes overthinking can be good, right? Make you realise all the stupid obvious shit, yeah?

Ian had said he wasn't going to turn into Conor. Fuck. Maybe Conor wasn't a bad guy. Maybe Mickey just made people this way.

Fuck! FUCK!

He loved Ian. He loved him so fucking much. He couldn't hurt him. He couldn't let him turn into Conor.

Mickey swallowed thickly. He had to make sure that Ian didn't turn into Conor. He was just going to fuck Ian’s life up if he did.

He had to leave.

He slipped quietly out of the bed and grabbed his backpack.

What did he even need to pack? He didn't even know how long he was going to be gone for. He just needed space. He just needed to give Ian space.

He needed to give Ian space. They say that if you love something, let it go? If it comes back, it's yours? Who the fuck is they? It was a shitty saying but it had truth behind it.

He'd given Ian space. Let him think, is that what he really wanted? Did he really want some used up, broken and bruised, guy like Mickey?

Mickey bit his lip and looked over at Ian. He was fucking perfect, fucking flawless. He could have whoever the fuck he wanted. Why bother with someone like Mickey?

Fuck.

Mickey shoved the essentials into his bag. Underwear, smokes, weed, and vodka. He even considered the sleeping kitten curled by Ian’s feet, but maybe not.

There was a guilt creeping under his skin, making him feel nauseated and pained. He tried to calm himself and repeated to himself that he was doing the right thing. Was he?

He picked up another layer of shirt, hoodie, and jacket, it was December and Chicago winters were never kind.

He should leave a note or something. His birthday present.

He fumbled under the jeans where he'd hidden the small box and placed it on his own pillow. He wrote a little note on a scrap of paper that said:

‘Happy Birthday, Ian.  
Be home soon.  
Look after the cats for me, please?’

He backed up to the bedroom door, staring sadly at the box.

A key to his apartment. He was going to ask Ian to move in. He was practically living there anyway.

Now, he wouldn’t know the answer. He would just come back - well, he didn't know when - and if his cats were still alive, that meant he'd at least kept the key.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Don’t overthink shit, Mickey.

He turned away and left the apartment.

***

Ian woke up late in the morning and patted the space next to him, wanting to wrap his arms around Mickey. He was confused. He pat the cold, empty sheets once more before opening his eyes to check. Mickey wasn’t there, and he could deduce that he hadn’t been there for a while judging by the cold of the sheets.

On his pillow was a box and a scrap of paper with words scrawled on in black ink.

Ian took the note and read it.

It didn’t say where he’d gone, but it did say he’d be back soon. But ‘look after the cats’? What? How fucking long is he going to be gone?

Ian reached out for his phone and sent Mickey a short text asking where he was.

Then there was the box. A small, rectangular box wrapped in shiny paper. Ian assumed it was his birthday present. He considered waiting for Mickey before opening it but why would he leave it there if he wanted him to wait.

He ripped the paper and discarded it in the little waste paper basket. He opened the box and - oh.

The little shiny key stared up at him, making him grine widely. There was a small keyring attached with the number of Mickey’s apartment. Well, their apartment now? Was Mickey asking him to move in? But, it could just be the key to look after the cats whilst he was wherever-the-fuck he was.

Ian considered it for a moment. He concluded that Mickey was asking him to move in, why else would he wrap it and then give it to him on his birthday?

Ian stretched and got out of the bed. He pulled on a pair of dark jeans and a hoodie.

He sighed and shook his head. Sure, it was his birthday, and Mickey had sort of just asked him to move in with him, he should be happy, but the events of last night still annoyed him.

He hit Mickey. Fuck! Really, he didn’t mean to. He was just so angry with Lip and he just wasn’t thinking straight.

Mickey had told him he’d killed two people. Conor was one, and now he knew the second was his dad. But, that didn’t annoy him. It was fucking South Side. Everyone has shitty parents here, Mickey probably had a good reason to kill him.

He thought about texting Lip and Mandy to meet up and set them straight about Mickey. His brother and bestfriend needed to stop being assholes and know the truth, whether or not Mickey wanted them to know, Ian had to do it.

Ian (11:38): hi. need to talk to u and lip.

Mandy (11:39): agreed. meet at mine in thirty? lips here x

Ian (11:40): yeh, be there soon

Mandy (11:45): is mick ok? x

Ian (11:46): dont kno. he went out before i woke up.

Ian grabbed his shoes from next to sofa and his jacket that was hanging on the arm. He better leave soon. He was going to leave a note in case Mickey came home whilst he was out but he settled for a text.

Ian (11:01): heyy, where are you? miss you

Ian (11:11): i opened my present without u sorry haha. u asking me to move in with you or something ;))? I love u dork

Ian (11: 12): where are youu? when are you going to be home?

Ian (11: 23): u ok? answer my calls or text me back pls? I miss u

Ian (11:49): im going out to see mands, ok? U better be home when i get back, ill be sad without u. i love you, wherever you are x

Ian sighed and tried not to think about if something bad had happened. He’d probably just gone out to the shops or something and had his phone on silent. 

Ian put on his coat and left the apartment to head to Mandy’s.

***

“Hey,” Ian smiled a little at Mandy as she opened the door.

Ian sat down on the gray dilapidated armchair, opposite Lip and Mandy on the sofa. Mickey got Lip good. A nice black eye and swollen cheek.

There was a thick awkward silence until Mandy offered a bottle vodka between them. They passed it round and took a couple of gulps.

“So…” Ian trailed off, he didn’t really know what to say.

“It was my fault,” Mandy spoke. “I told Lip about Mickey killing him. I was drunk and still pissed off at him. And Lip went mad before I could explain.”

“Explain what? The guy’s a fucking killer, just looking out for my brother. Wouldn’t be surprised if he killed his ex as well,” Lip said sharply.

“He had his reasons,” Ian shrugged.

Mandy and Lip gave him a confused look. It was time they knew.

“Mickey wasn’t abusing Conor. He made that shit up because he didn’t want people thinking he was a pussy. Truth is, Conor beat Mickey up, and raped him as well, I think. Then Conor tried to fucking kill him and it was self-defence. You know if that fucker was still alive, I would’ve killed him myself,” Ian let out a deep breath.

Finally. Finally they knew. It was making Ian feel sick that they didn't know and still mentioned the asshole, he couldn’t begin to imagine how it made Mickey feel.

“Oh,” was all that Lip said.

“Yeah, he kind of told me that, that was why I was pissed off,” Mandy bit her lip, she was feeling guilty.

“And, I’m sure he had his reasons for killing his dad. I’ve only a heard a few things about him, all bad,” Ian took the bottle of vodka and downed another gulp.

Mandy shuffled, slightly uncomfortable, she was hiding something.

“Why did he do it? Mandy?” Ian sat up.

“Fuck,” Mandy shook her head and rubbed her eyes. “He was, ugh, Terry was trying to rape me. He was drunk, and -. I don’t know. Mickey saw him and just panicked. We dumped his body in an alley and there wasn’t much of an investigation because the cops didn’t care.”

“Oh, fuck…” Lip sighed and put his arm around Mandy. “I would’ve done the fucking same.”

There was a short silence whilst everyone mulled over what had been said, until Lip spoke up.

“How is he?”

“No fucking clue,” Ian said as he checked his phone. “He went out early and hasn’t answered my texts or calls.”

“Fuck. I’ll apologise, tell him I want to see him,” Lip said.

“If anything bad has happened, I’m blaming you, asshole,” Ian said, half joking, half serious.

Lip laughed a little. “Well, that’s out of the way now, I guess? So, we can all forget about the shitty past and move on, yeah?”

Mandy and Ian both nodded in agreement.

“Oh shit!” Mandy exclaimed, suddenly jumped up. “Wait there!”

She ran up the stairs and ran quickly back down, this time with a present in her hand.

“Happy birthday!” She hugged Ian tightly, kissed his cheek, and handed him the present.

“Aw, thanks, Mandy,” he smiled widely, he’d forgotten about his birthday for a moment.

He ripped the paper with the words ‘happy birthday’ printed in red glitter on. Inside was a black sweatshirt that said ‘FUCK’ in white letters on, as well as a matching beanie.

“Woah, nice!” Ian admired the clothing and folded them up, placing them on the arm of the chair.

“Glad you like it, made me think of you for some reason when I saw it,” Mandy smiled before digging her elbow into Lip.

“Oh, yeah,” Lip waved a card in his hand, “for you, I put a lot of thought into this.”

Ian opened the card and it was just a cheap birthday card, but it’s what’s on the inside that counts, and on the inside was five hundred dollars.

“What the fuck?” Ian looked at Lip.

“You’re welcome,” Lip laughed. “It’s your eighteenth, so you get more money.”

“Yeah, but five hundred? How the fuck did you get that much?”

“Selling weed up North, the fuckers are loaded and incredibly stupid.”

“Thanks,” Ian finally thanked him and put the cash in his wallet.

“You going to come over later? I’m pretty sure Debs wants to bake you a cake and Fiona’s probably got you something.”

“I don’t know. I was going to spend the day with Mickey but, I guess he had other plans,” Ian shrugged.

“Please, I’ll be there?” Mandy said.

“I’ll see what Mick says, if he answers my fucking texts or comes home,”  
“Not good enough, yes or no?” Mandy demanded with a grin.

“Fuck, fine!” Ian laughed.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Mickey bit into his cheeseburger, relishing the taste of cheap cheese, undercooked onions, and ground beef. He looked around the diner. It was a nice place, food was a bit expensive but fuck, it tasted good.

His phone vibrated beside him and Ian’s face popped up. He ignored it. He also got a few texts of Ian and Mandy, but ignored those as well.

He just needed to be alone.

He was always with Ian. He fucking loved Ian.

He needed Ian to have time to himself to figure out if he really wanted Mickey. That’s it. He would give Ian some time to think about it. If he had stayed, he would have fallen in love even more, and then when Ian realised he didn’t want someone as fucked up and broken as Mickey was, the break up would hurt so much more.

Fuck. Stop thinking, Mickey! Stop fuking overthinking!

He paid for his food and headed back to his car.

He wasn’t entirely sure where the fuck he was. He just started driving and now he was here. It was much nicer than South Side, nice restaurants, kids playing outside, and he had walked for ten minutes before finding somewhere to eat and didn’t get offered drugs once. He’d have to take Ian here sometime- no, stop thinking.

At the gas station, he stopped by the cash machine and took out what he could. There’d probably be some motel nearby where he could just binge drink and not think for a bit.

He drove in a random direction and regretted picking a random direction. He started to notice places and realised he was driving back the way he came. Luckily, there was a place to turn off, that had another gas station, convenience store and a shitty looking motel. It’d be a nice place to stay for a bit.

He paid for one night and traded the cash for a key. He knew if he was going to stay longer, he could just pay for more nights later. He walked to the door with the number on the key and opened it and smiled a little. The little place was perfect. A bed, a tiny bathroom, and a ceiling fan. The classic shitty motel he needed right now.

He chucked himself and his bag onto the bed and sighed. Time to forget life for a bit.

Vodka or weed? Mickey held the bottle in one hand, and the joint in the other. Both? Both.

He lit the joint and took a long drag. He then hastily opened the bottle of vodka to throw the burning liquid down his throat.

Mickey shuffled on the bed to get comfier and finished off his joint before drinking more vodka. He screwed the cap of the vodka back on and put it down on the floor. He took a deep breath. This was what he needed. He couldn’t feel the pain of his black eye or bruised ribs. He just felt content.

He noticed the little TV opposite the bed and switched it on. Of course it had no good channels, but the noise of the black and white movie was perfect.

His mind was wandering back to Ian again. No, no, no.

This was a gamble. When he would go back home it’d finally be decided if Ian wanted him or not. And Mickey wasn’t sure if he wanted to find out because he knew the answer would be no. He was fucked up and bruised and broken and hurt and fuck! No would fucking want him, why the fuck would Ian?

Fuck. Ian wasn’t going to leave his mind no matter how drunk or high he got. He laid his head down on the pillow and just hoped he wouldn’t wander into his dreams.

He woke up and his phone said it was four in the morning. Fucking hell. He’d slept so long, gotten so high, so drunk, of course he had this lovely fucking headache.

He didn’t know if he was still drunk because he found himself typing Ian’s name in his contacts and ringing the number.

When it started to ring, Mickey was sure he was going to be sick.

It rang again.

And again.

And again.

“Your call could not be taken at the moment so please leave a message after the tone,” the robotic voice said and the low beeping sound to indicate to him to leave a message sounded.

“Uh…” Mickey didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. “Hey, I’m sorry. It’s for the best, OK? I don’t know how to explain this shit, OK? But, fuck, that’s one whole day of not seeing you, and I survived, so, uh, fuck.”

Mickey ended the call. Fuck, maybe he should have explained himself. Fuck. He was feeling sick and panicked. The anxiety churned in his stomach and that, plus all the vodka he drank, was about to make him sick.

He ran to the toilet and choked up all he could. Ugh. He wiped his mouth with the towell and splashed his face with cold water.

When he sat back down on the bed, he rang Ian again. It went to voicemail again, this time he felt a little more confident after the beeping tone.

“OK, so, Ian, you are the best fucking person in the world, OK? I don’t understand why you tell me you love me? Don’t you see that I’m just some fucked broken person? That’s why I’m doing this shit. You need sometime to realise what the fuck you’re getting yourself into, yeah? You deserve better.”

 

***

They partied long into the night - and into early morning - even though everyone had work or school tomorrow.

Ian slept on the sofa and woke up with a terrible headache.

He fumbled in his pocket for his phone to see if Mickey had replied to his texts. No replies to the texts but two voicemails, fuck.

He listened to them, smiling a little at the sound of Mickey saying ‘fuck’. He hadn’t seen him for a whole twenty four hours, and fuck, he missed him.

After the second voicemail, he laughed a little. Mickey had left because he was scared that he didn’t love him. But Ian loved him so much. So fucking much. He could solve this, he just needed to show Mickey that he didn’t give a fuck whatever Conor had said to him, Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich was fucking perfect and he needed to know that.

Ian (10:18): mick

Ian (10:20): i spoke to lip and mandy and they kno what happened and we all still love u

Ian (10:21): ok maybe lip doesnt /love/ u but u kno, he wants to apologise

Ian (10:21): prepare ur cute ass for a long message ok x

 

Mickey opened Ian’s texts and read them, his heart breaking a little. Ian seemed genuinely upset. And fuck, maybe he was an asshole for leaving him on his birthday.

Mickey prepared his ‘cute ass’ - as Ian had put it - for this long message. It said that he was typing, and the anticipation was killing him. He was prepared for the message to tell him that he was right, he didn’t love him.

Ian (10:31): mikhailo aleksandr milkovich, ur being stupid. Yes. stupid. Because i fucking love you more than anything. You are like the fucking sun or some shit, like romeo and juliet? But minus the part where they die. I dont need time to decide if i want to love you because i really fucking love you. I love you. I love you. I dont care how many times i have to say it because everytime i say it i mean it. So get ur ass home right now. I miss u. X

Fuck. He wasn’t expecting that.

Ian really loved him?

Fuck. He really loved Ian.

He tried not to read into the message and overthink shit but… old habits die hard. Ian told him to come home. Home. As in their home? Like, he wants to move in with him? Fuck! He had to find out.

Fuck. He’d made a mistake.

Stupid fucking Mickey. Why did he leave. Fuck.

He packed his things into his backpack and dropped the key off at the reception.

 

As he was approaching his apartment block, the doubt set in again. He pulled to the side of the road and got out the car for some air. He needed to feel something right now.

“Ay, you,” he shouted at some random guy who was leaning back on a wall with a cigarette between his lips, “punch me in the fucking face.”

“What?” The guy stared at Mickey, wondering if he knew what he just said.

“I said, punch me in the fucking face or I’ll punch you in the face, yeah?”

“Uh…” the guy started to walk away but Mickey stepped towards him.

“Punch. Me. In. The. Face. Fuckwit.”

The guy shrugged and punched him in the face. A good, classic Southside kind of punch, that left a metallic taste in your mouth.

“Thank you,” Mickey smirked and walked towards his apartment.

That’s what he needed.

It was cold and dark already, even though it was only six o’clock. The sting on his face, the taste of blood in his mouth, the chill wind that nipped his nose, and the thought that he was about to see Ian. Fucking euphoric.

He stumbled with the key, trying to unlock the door.

What a beautiful sight. The darkness was lit gently with warm fairy lights. And Ian looked up from his seat on the sofa and gave him a small smile, but didn’t speak.

Mickey closed the door and dropped his bag on the floor. He walked over to Ian. He looked like he wanted to say something but didn't speak.

He shuffled a little on the sofa as Mickey climbed on top and straddled him.

“Mick-” Ian went to say but Mickey shook his head and pulled him into a slow, passionate kiss.

Ian instantly kissed back running his tongue across Mickey's lip, ignoring the metallic taste of blood that stained his mouth.

Ian’s hands searched under Mickey’s shirt as he ravenously pulled off his layers. Mickey fumbled with the little buttons on his shirt but Ian took his hand in his and laced their fingers together.

The kiss deepened still. One hand holding the other’s. The other hand tracing through skin and through hair, just wanting to feel the other person.

Ian gently pulled his hand away from Mickey’s to slowly undo Mickey’s shirt buttons. He pressed small kisses to the skin as it was revealed whilst Mickey hummed quietly.

Ian finally had Mickey’s shirt off and on the ground and he moved his face away to admire Mickey’s bare chest.

Just as perfect as he remembered.

When Ian pulled his own t-shirt off, Mickey’s hands were straight onto his shoulders, rubbing lightly on the skin he had missed so much.

They kissed again, deep and hungry, as they grinded down on each other. In a few clumsy seconds, they both had their jeans and underwear on the floor. Mickey squeezed his eyes shut and ardently met his lips with Ian’s.

Ian held Mickey’s hand and intertwined their fingers. Ian sighed happily as Mickey finally pushed himself down onto his cock. He let out a breathless moan and bit his lip, Ian squeezed his hand lightly but reassuring as he filled himself completely.

“Mm, fuck,” Mickey softly moaned as he lifted himself gently up before falling down again.

Ian let Mickey take charge as he sat up and down with small moans and whimpers escaping between his lips. He tracked gently kisses along his neck and shoulder, occasionally looking up at Mickey. Fuck. He looked beautiful. He’d opened his eyes and they were filled with sadness and lust and fuck, Ian had missed him so much.

Ian unwrapped their fingers to hold down on Mickey’s hips. As Mickey would slowly sit back down, he’d thrust quickly up, quickening their pace.

“Ian, uh, Ian, fuck,” Mickey sighed in his ear and bit down on his shoulder.

Ian knew he was reaching his climax and so he wrapped his fingers around Mickey’s dick. He pumped up and down and it wasn’t long until both of them reached an orgasm with the other’s name on their lips.

Mickey waited a moment before standing up and rubbing himself with a t-shirt and then handing it to Ian. He pulled on his underwear and smiled at Ian.

“Missed your cute ass, really,” Ian grinned.

“Missed your cute ass as well,” Mickey laughed and sat back down on Ian.

“You know I fucking love, you don’t pull a stupid stunt like that again, yeah?” Ian kissed his neck and then looked him in the eyes.

Mickey nodded.

Wait. Was this the moment? Fuck. Overthinking shit again.

“Mickey,” Ian clicked his fingers as Mickey began to space out, “I love you.”

Mickey leaned forward and kissed him so gently.

“I love you too.”


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Ian smiled. He already knew Mickey loved him but, finally, finally, he had said it out loud.

“You’re cute,” Ian laughed and kissed Mickey before he could tell him to fuck off.

They pulled away from the kiss, both of them with a big smile on their faces.

“What do you want to do with the rest of the night, huh?” Ian asked.

Mickey didn’t even need time to think about that, “I’m fucking hungry.”

“OK, let’s go see what’s in the kitchen.”

Mickey didn’t move, but just kind of stared at Ian.

“What you staring at?” Ian poked his rib, making him laugh and roll of him.

“Nothing, fuck! Just didn’t want to get up but now that you’ve shoved me off you, then I guess we’ll go to the kitchen now.”

“I didn’t shove you off me,” Ian laughed as they wandered over to the little kitchen.

“Um, I think stabbing me with your finger is pretty much the same fucking thing,” Mickey rolled his eyes and bent down a little to check the fridge.

Ian laughed, “You’re so dramatic sometimes, Mick.”

Ian stood behind Mickey as he bent down, and lightly slapped his ass, laughing as he did so. Mickey stood up straight instantly, his face bright red.

“I’ll make dinner, since I’m just the best boyfriend ever,” Ian said as he filled the kettle.

“Who said that?” Mickey laughed. “What you making?”

“Noodles, in a cup,” Ian waved the cup of noodles in his face.

“Romantic.”

“Mhm.”

The kettle boiled quickly and Ian peeled back the foil lids and poured the water. He turned to get a couple of forks and looked at Mickey.

Mickey was sat on the countertop, absentmindedly kicking his legs slightly as he watched Ian stir their noodles.

“We should put vodka in them,” Mickey opened the cupboard and reached for a bottle.

Ian shook his head and laughed a little, “chicken flavoured vodka noodles? No.”

“I just - I want to get high or drunk or something, please?” Mickey sighed and put the bottle back in the cupboard.

“Well, we can eat noodles, smoke weed, then fuck, how does that sound?”

“Perfect,” Mickey smirked.

“Good, then it's a date!” Ian declared and quickly kissed Mickey's cheek.

“Who said it was a fuckin’ date?”

“Uh, I did,” Ian stepped close to Mickey so that his legs had nowhere to go except around his waist.

Ian put a hand on Mickey’s back to pull him closer and to the edge of the countertop.

“I'm making you dinner, and we're going to end the night with sex. Sounds like a date to me,” Ian knew he'd won this battle as Mickey said no more but just kissed back.

Ian didn't want to stand back from the counter but he had to sometime. He slowly pulled away and Mickey sadly jumped back to the floor. He grabbed his pot of noodles and handed Mickey his as they walked back to the living room and plopped themselves besides each other on the sofa.

Ian took the TV remote and flicked through the channels before settling for some cheesy horror movie from the eighties.

Mickey didn't mind horror movies. He could handle gore and violence because that was part of everyday life. It’s just, creepy little kids and some dude with an axe, not his thing.

He shuffled a little closer to Ian on the sofa so that their legs touched. Let it be known that Mickey Milkovich was NOT scared, just unnerved. Let it also be known that he was NOT sitting close to Ian for comfort to calm his nerves, it was just because that particular spot on the sofa was a nicer spot.

They ate their noodles slowly whilst watching the movie. Well, Ian was watching the movie. Mickey was focusing on every little mistake to reassure himself that it's all special effects and a load of bullshit.

Ian leaned forward to place their empty noodle pots on the table and when he leaned back onto the sofa he smiled a little. Mickey had definitely shuffled closer and was now playing innocent when Ian sat back down on his spot, now with Mickey leaning on him.

Ian's hand rested on Mickey’s leg and slowly moved up and down. Then his hand went from his leg to his arm and he gently traced the little scars and burns before moving his fingers to Mickey’s fingers and tracing his tattooed knuckles.

Mickey sighed gently yet impatiently, typical. “You gonna fucking hold my hand or what?”

“Well, if you insist,” Ian locked their fingers together, gave Mickey a small smile, and turned back to the movie.

Mickey felt his heartbeat quicken. He didn't know if it was because of how close he was to Ian, or because of the suspense the movie was building up. Probably both.

The music quickened along with Mickey’s pulse. There were loud footsteps as someone limped down the hall and then -.

“Jesus fuckin’ hell, fuck that!” Mickey jumped a little as his mouth unwillingly spewed out curses.

“You scared, Mick?” Ian said sweetly.

“No, I ain't fuckin’ scared! Just wasn't expecting that shit,” Mickey pulled his hand away and folded them in a sulk.

Ian grinned and wrapped his arms around Mickey to pull him close and secure. “I'll protect you.”

“Fuck off,” Mickey replied, although he was a lot more relaxed through the rest of the movie after that.

The movie finished and the credits moved up the screen. Mickey was quick to get the remote and change the channel.

“Fuckin’ missed yesterdays Hell’s Kitchen,” he groaned.

“I recorded it for you,” Ian took the remote and switched the recorded shows, pressing play for Hell’s Kitchen.

Mickey smiled.

“No need to tell me how amazing I am, I already know,” Ian smirked at Mickey, who seemed lost for words.

Sure, it was a small thing to record a show for him but, it let Mickey know that Ian was thinking about him. Fuck. Now he felt bad. Yesterday was his birthday and he wasn’t there because he was a prick, great, well done Mickey!

“Weed,” Mickey said as he opened the drawer. “One joint? What the fuck?”

“Got that covered as well,” Ian smirked and pointed to the drawer next to the one that Mickey had looked in.

He opened the drawer Ian had pointed at and there was a plastic bag. He opened the bag to find a load of joints. At least twenty.

“Woa-” Mickey looked to Ian then to the weed, then to Ian, “how?”

“Lip got me a load of money for my birthday, and he had a load of weed, and we got really high and spent hours rolling so many joints, so many…” Ian fades out as he reminiscenced on the day before. He really did prepare so much weed. But at least it’ll be worth it.

“Snap out of it,” Mickey clicked his fingers in his face and laughed.

He took a few joints and put them on the table, lighting one in his own mouth. He took a short drag and handed it to Ian. Then he lit another one and sat back down on the sofa.

“Why did you do that?” Ian smiled and slinged his arm around Mickey’s shoulders.

Mickey just shrugged and played the TV, turning down the volume a bit as he would rather talk. He could always just watch his show again. “So, did you have a nice birthday?”

“Rough start. But it ended well. Shame you went there.”

Mickey guiltily bit his lip and looked Ian in the eyes. “I’m real fuckin’ sorry. I’ll make it up to you though.”

“How do you plan on that?” Ian wiggled his brow with a slight chuckle on his lips.

“What you suggesting, Red?”

“Will you suck my dick whenever I want?”

Mickey took a long drag from his joint and blew it in his face, “I already do that. Anything you actually want from me?”

Ian thought for a second before standing up from the sofa and wandering towards the bedroom. “Wait there!”

Mickey shrugged. Ian was back in just a few seconds and sat back down how he was before.

Ian handed him the small box that Mickey had put the house key in. Mickey’s face fell. Oh.

“Do - do you not want to-” he started but Ian was already shaking his head.

“I want you to give me my birthday present in person.”

Mickey handed him the box and nodded. “Happy Birthday.”

“No…” Ian handed him the box back. “Properly now. You gotta ask the question.”

“Gallagher -”

“Please, it’s my birthday?”

“Yesterday was your birthday.”

“Yeah, and you missed it, so today is also my birthday.”

Mickey sighed. He’d already used up all his courage for today confessing to Ian that he loved him, and now he had to ask him to move in. You can do this, Mickey, fuck!

Mickey slowly handed him the box and opened his mouth. He tried to speak but felt a lump in his throat stopping him.

“Aw, Mickey, it’s not like you’re asking me to marry you or something. Unless you are?” Ian laughed at his boyfriends cute struggle just to ask him to move in.

“No! Fuck that!” Mickey retorted defensively.

“Oh? Marrying me that awful?” Ian nudged him in the ribs jokingly. “Come on, do it.”

“Fuckin’ hell, Red,” Mickey took a deep breath and handed him the box. “Will you, Ian Gallagher, do me the honour, of moving into my shitty apartment with me? I mean, you’re basically living here already, might as well, uh, make it “official”. Don’t turn this into some big fuckin’ romantic gesture or shit, I’m only askin’ because -”

Ian had to kiss him before he ranted any further.

He didn’t know if it was because he was getting high, or if it was the way that Ian so gently placed a hand behind his head and so gently ran his tongue across his lips, that made him feel so, fuck, so, good?

Everytime they kissed, it felt like the first time. There was that fucking fuzzy feeling that you can’t just put into words so easily. And there was the excitement at the thought that the kiss wouldn’t end there.

Ian pulled away with a big grin smacked to his face.

“So, uh, that a yes?” Mickey asked, needing confirmation.

“Of course it’s a fucking yes,” Ian took a long, final drag from his joint before it was too small to try and smoke and he flicked it into the glass ashtray on the table.

Mickey smiled and pulled Ian into a kiss again.

“This is going to sound weird,” Mickey began, “and it's probably just the fucking weed talking but, you know when you're high - or drunk - and you can just focus on the good shit and not the past, just what's happening now? And you know, everything feels good?”

Ian grinned and nodded, “I know that feeling.”

“Well, I don't need to be high to get that like, I get that whenever I'm with you. I focus on you and then any shit from my past disappears and, I feel good and I never thought I’d ever feel good. You’re under my skin, man. You understand?” Mickey couldn't believe the words that fell from his mouth. Although, he meant every single one of them.

“It's called love, Mickey, that's what actual love feels like,” Ian rubbed his shoulder. It made him sad to think he'd never felt loved before.

“Do you get that?” Mickey asked, needing reassurance and validation that it wasn't just him who was in love.

“Every-fucking-time I see your face, touch your skin, hear you talk. Everytime. Without fail.”

Mickey stood up, dodging Ian’s kiss, and started walking backwards towards the bedroom with a daring smirk on his face. Ian stood up and followed, stripping his t-shirt off as he saw Mickey do the same.

The cats were kicked out of the bedroom and the door closed behind them. Mickey was feeling so euphoric in this moment and kissed Ian hard, holding him with his body weight against the wall.

Ian kissed back before slowly swaying their bodies onto the bed. Their hands fumbled with their pants as their mouths kept busy on the other’s. Somehow, they had managed to roll themselves under the duvet. It was warm. The heat of the other’s body, the warmth of the duvet, and the high that still lingered.

Neither of them had sex on their mind right now. Just the way their bodies intertwined was perfect.

“I love you, I really mean it,” Mickey mumbled, yawning as he did so.

Ian kissed his forehead as they drifted into sleep.

***

Mickey stood under the hot stream of water, washing away the evidence of Ian and his fuck session this morning.

It has weirdly been quite some time since he had showered alone. They only showered together for convenience, saving the planet and water and shit, of course. 

Oh, and also to fuck.

There was something about hot water, steam, and being naked that just got them both hot. It also saved the annoying time-consuming process of changing sheets and cleaning themselves up after.

There was a knock on the bathroom door and Ian shouted so Mickey could hear him over the sound of the running water. “You naked?”

“Fucking obviously!”

There was a pause that made Mickey doubt if Ian was going to come in, but then the door opened and Ian was walking in.

Ian was walking towards the shower, his eyes just taking in the sight that was naked, wet Mickey Milkovich. Mickey wasn't do anything special. He was just stood there looking at him, slightly annoyed.

“You gonna come in and have a shower? Or you just gonna stand there like an idiot?”

Ian answered by stripping off his clothes and stepping in to join him.

The shower was part of the bath, so Ian had plenty of space to stand, but it was cold not being near the heat of the water so he stood close to Mickey.

“So, we gonna shower or…” Mickey offered.

“Or what? You ready for round two already?” Ian smirked.

“Well, I know you are - firecrotch,” Mickey laughed a little at the nickname. “Me, however, I need some time to clean up your fucking mess from my hair.”

“Oh yeah, don’t forget the bit on your ass as well,” Ian winked and rubbed the hot water onto his ass.

“You're one fucking messy kid, Ian,” he shook his head and laughed.

“You love it though.”

Ian went to pick up some shower gel from the small metal holder on the bath but his eyes were drawn to a purple bottle he'd somehow managed to overlook, even though he'd showered there many times before.

It stood out amongst the typical “manly” shower gels and shampoos. It was a bright violet colour with pink stripes and images of berries covering it. Ian picked it up to read the label.

“Ay, be careful with that, expensive shit,” Mickey says sternly as Ian holds his berry scented shampoo in his hands.

Ian flips the lid and takes a deep sniff.

“Mm, smells like you,” he grins at Mickey, who just shakes his head.

“That's ‘cause I fuckin’ wash my hair with that shit, genius.”

Ian tips the bottle and squeezes a generous amount in the palm of his hand. Mickey flinches back at first when Ian touches his hair with the cold gel, but relaxes and shuts his eyes and he gently massages it into his hair and scalp.

Ian smiled at the smell that was released when his fingers ran through Mickey’s hair. It was that familiar smell that he’d get when he cuddled his face into Mickey’s neck.

When Mickey’s hair was thoroughly lathered with the shampoo (a little bit more than necessary as neither of them really wanted Ian to take his hands away from his hair), Ian stood back a little so Mickey could stand under the full force of the shower and rinse his hair.

Ian knew that he had a dumb smile on his face watching his boyfriend rinse foamy suds out of his hair, but he couldn't help it. Everything that Mickey did made him smile. He really was perfect.

“Fuck you smiling at?” Mickey opened his eyes to see the redhead with a wide grin plastered to his face.

“You really are fiesty in the mornings, huh? Even after sex as good as that?” Ian teased.

“Who said it was good?” Mickey rolled his eyes at him.

“Hmm, I vaguely remember you moaning, quite loudly I should ‘fuck, Ian, you're so good’. I don’t know, sounds like you enjoyed it?” He smirked at Mickey who was shuffling a little uncomfortably.

“Yeah, maybe it was good, so what? I'm not allowed to grumpy in the morning?”

Ian shook his head at him. He was going to continue to be grumpy unless he shut him up, so he pressed his mouth to his, the kiss turning deep quickly. 

His tongue ran across his lips and his mouth as they pressed their bodies together under the hot steam of water.

Their bodies grinded against each other as both of their cocks stiffened with each little movement. Ians hands slipped from the back of Mickeys head, to down his back and finally landing to grip his ass and hold him firmly against him.

Mickey pulled away from the kiss and looked into Ian’s eyes. They didn't need to say anything.

Mickey turned around and bent down a little and held on to a metal pole that you were supposed to put towels on or some shit. Whatever you were supposed to put on it didn't matter right now because now it was for Mickey to put his hands on so Ian would have the perfect angle to fuck him.

Ian reached out amongst the shampoos and shower gels to get the lube. They fucked here often so they figured why not get a lube to keep in here.

Mickey sighed with a mixture of relief and disappointment as Ian slipped in just one finger. He curled it a bit inside him, making Mickey gasp and bite down on his lip.

Mickey could feel Ian had a second finger lubed up but it was just tracing along his cheeks and teasing his hole. Mickey pushed down and wordlessly demanded more.

Ian happily complied, pushing in not just one more, but two more. Judging by the sound of shock in his moan, Mickey wasn't expecting that.

“How you doin’ down there?” Ian asked as he slowly pulled his fingers in and out of Mickey.

“Shut the fuck up and fuck me already - ah, fuck!” Mickey tried to sound casual but Ian knew exactly how to make him moan.

Ian slowly pulled his fingers completely out and Mickey sighed. His legs felt weak and shaky but the anticipation and knowing of what would come next - no pun intended - stopped him from just dropping to his knees.

Ian smirked down at Mickey. He could see him shaking slightly as he struggled to hold himself up in the position. Well, Ian could help him with that. He held his hips firmly so he couldn't move much as he pushed slowly into Mickey’s ass.

“Oh, fuck me,” Mickey unwillingly moaned out and bit hard at his lip to stop himself from saying anymore stupid shit.

“Oh, I will.”

“And no teasing bullshit, I’m real fuckin’ horny and real fuckin’ impatient.” Despite Ian’s sturdy grip, Mickey managed to push himself back and fill himself up.

Fuck. Sure, Ian loved when Mickey was soft and sweet in bed and let out small moans and played the innocent game, but, Ian also loved Mickey with an attitude and the lust for a good hard fuck.

Ian thrust in and out, letting out sort deep grunts as he did so.

“Fuck, Ian, right - fucking - there,” Mickey pushed back.

He pounded Mickey’s sweet spot as he reached around to pump his dick, knowing that they were both so close.

“Mick - fuck - you're fuckin’” Ian didn't even know where he was going with that sentence. But it didn't matter as both of them reached their climax, panting breathlessly.

Mickey stood up straight and cracked his knuckles and popped his back with a small groan before pushing Ian lightly out of the stream of water to wash the sticky release of himself.

“You still grouchy?” Ian kissed Mickey’s forehead and raised his brow.

“Maybe,” Mickey shrugged, but he failed to hide the small smile creeping onto his own lips.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Christmas Eve approached quickly and smoothly. Mickey ended up having a talk with Lip and Mandy and everyone made up. Finally, Mickey felt he could leave all his shit in the past and finally look towards a happier future. A future with Ian.

Mickey originally planned to spend Christmas Eve getting drunk in his own apartment and letting Ian do family shit, however, Ian’s constant reminders that Mickey was family now meant that he know found himself sat awkwardly on the sofa in the Gallagher house.

Fiona had rules set out for Christmas. It was surprisingly structured. Mickey had never really done a proper Christmas and he never realised what a big deal it was until Fiona stuck a piece of paper to the wall with colourful words spelling out the schedule from the 24th to the 26th.

One of the rules - much to Mickey’s disappointment - was absolutely no alcohol on Christmas Eve. She didn’t want people having hangovers on Christmas morning. This mean that not only was Mickey finding it awkward being surrounded by this busy noise, he was also sober.

It was also bed by eleven. It was half ten, yet the party only felt like it was just starting. Debbie and Carl had set out a limbo pole for people to play under. Fiona and Vee danced under it whilst Kev leaned up against the wall cheering them on. Lip and Mandy sat on a chair together, cuddled up and cozy, the pda making Mickey gag.

Despite the jolly tones of Christmas music and the cheering from Kev and the kids, Mickey felt uncomfortable and tense. That was until Ian draped his arm of his shoulders and pulled him close.

“Woah, no,” Mickey went to shrug Ian off but glanced around the room first. No one was looking. No one cared.

“It’s Christmas, cheer up,” Ian grinned and kissed his forehead as he pulled his body close to his.

They swayed and Ian sang loudly along with the Christmas songs. Mickey didn’t sing along. Not only did he not know the words, he would rather watch Ian with that big smile, and terribly cute singing.

“OK! OK! It’s time for bed!” Fiona shouted, switching off the music.

“Yes!” Debbie cheered as she ran to pick Liam up from his cot. “Christmas! Christmas!”

“Put Liam in bed, please, Debs,” Fiona gave Debbie a quick goodnight hug and turned to Carl. “You! Bed as well, goodnight.”

Carl bounced up the stairs after Debbie, chanting ‘Christmas’ along with her.

Mickey’s eyes darted everywhere. Everyone was buzzing with excitement and there wasn’t a drop of alcohol or drugs in anyone’s body.

Fiona waved as Kev and Vee left the house, promising to be over on time tomorrow. Lip and Mandy walked up the stairs with difficulty as their mouths were stuck to each other's.

The noise and excitement had finally calmed.

Ian and Mickey sat, cozied up on the sofa, as they watched Fiona pull presents out of a hiding place and lay them under the brightly decorated tree.

There was something about that that made Mickey smile. Despite how everyone struggled often with money and time, there was something so sweet about saving for Christmas. Mickey never got presents or even a cooked dinner for Christmas. He never knew if it was a money issue or just a lack of love within his family.

“Right you two, sleep. If you don’t sleep before Christmas, Santa won’t come,” she laughed and picked up her phone from the counter in the kitchen before turning the lights off and heading up stairs.

Mickey relaxed. The soft lights from the tree illuminated the room and made him feel calm. Or maybe it was Ian’s gentle touch as his fingers danced slowly up and down his arm.

“So, what’s your plan tomorrow?” Ian asked.

“Me and Mandy gonna head out in the morning to mine. We’ll do our presents there whilst you do presents here, and we’re gonna watch a movie because tradition,” Mickey laughed a little, “then we’ll come back for dinner, I guess.”

“So what’s that? Two, three hours without you? How will I cope?” Ian dramatically sobbed and laughed loudly.

“Shh, people sleeping,” Mickey elbowed him playfully in the ribs.

“Mhm, guess you better keep quiet then,” Ian smirked.

“Wha-”

Ian grabbed Mickey’s hips and pinned him down on the sofa.

“I said,” Ian softly repeated as his lips left small, gently kisses on his neck, “you better keep quiet then.”

“We’re not fuckin’ on your sofa with your whole family upstairs,” Mickey tried to sound harsh but there was something about Ian’s mouth on his skin that made his voice soften and temper fade.

“Who said anything about fucking?” Ian lifted his head in time to watch Mickey roll his eyes and sigh.

“Whatever,” Mickey looked at Ian, waiting for him to continue, “well, fucking continue or get off me.”

“I’ll get off to you alright,” Ian smirked, earning him another classic Mickey eye roll.

Ian’s hands were slow and soft, running up and down his body as he slowly pushed his weight on him. His lips kissed along his jaw and his neck before helping him out off his shirt to kiss the skin under there. Ian took of his own shirt too to press skin on skin.

Even in the dim light, they could both see the insane amount of little footprints of hickeys that trailed down their chests.

“Oops,” Ian laughed, knowing that Mickey was also staring at Ian’s chest and then his own, slightly shocked at the marks he’d left. “At least we match.”

“Shut up and start kissing me again,” Mickey said, impatient for the soft touched and kisses to come back.

Mickey let out an involuntary hiss as Ian bit down and sucked a little on his neck, continuing the path of hickeys from yesterday.

“Be careful, Gallagher, people will see if you go too -” Mickey’s words dropped into a satisfied sigh as Ian’s small bites went higher.

“You love everyone knowing you belong to me,” Ian murmured into his neck and Mickey bit at his lip knowing he was right.

The soft hands and soft kisses were making him warm and tired and he gently closed his eyes to just feel it all so much more.

When Ian had made it back to his jaw, Mickey lazily put a hand behind his head to pull his lips onto his and to give him a slow, languid kiss. Ian rolled off him yet it was hard for the two of them to fit on the small sofa so their bodies still pressed closely together.

Mickey opened his eyes to look into Ian’s as he kept a supportive arm around his waist so he wouldn’t accidently fall from the sofa.

Without words, they said ‘I love you’, and fell asleep in this perfect moment.

***

There were loud bangs like gunshots, making Mickey and Ian both jump from the sofa in surprise.

“CHRISTMAAAAASSSS!” Carl laughed maniacally as he set off firecrackers in a pot.

“CARL NO!” Fiona ran down the stairs waving her arms for Carl to stop but it was too late as he lit more and laughed.

Mickey rolled his eyes at the rude interruption and quickly pulled his shirt on. He felt eyes watching him as he got dressed and looked to see Ian with his head in his hand, smiling up at him.

“Fuck you staring at?” Mickey said, as usual, grumpy in the mornings.

“Merry Christmas, Mick,” Ian laughed as Mickey shook his head at him.

“Just another fuckin’ day.”

Ian stood up in a fake shock, “oh, you’ll soon learn that this isn’t ‘’just another day’’.” Ian lowered his voice and leaned in close, “you always this grumpy in the morning unless you got a dick in you?”

Mickey’s face filled with blush as he pushed Ian back lightly with his fingertips and sternly, yet with no anger or bitterness in his voice, told him to fuck off.

Fiona had dragged the firecrackers away from Carl and distracted him with a couple of gifts. Debbie came dancing down the stairs, bouncing a giggling Liam in her arms.

The noise was flooding back as more people came into the room, including Kev and Vee, who walked in through the front door with a few presents in their arms. The music was switched back on and Mickey felt the anxiety creep back as he waited for Mandy to get ready to go.

“You ready?” Mandy appeared from upstairs with an impatient look on her face like Mickey was the one taking forever to get ready.

“Have fun,” Ian said and tried to kiss Mickey but he dodged out of the way, throwing a glance at the too many people in the room.

Mickey walked out of the door with Mandy following and into his car.

“Merry Christmas, Mick,” Mandy said.

“Whatever. Just another day,” Mickey shrugged and focused on the driving on icy roads.

“Why you in a mood?”

“I’m not.”

Mandy sighed and rolled her eyes the way Mickey would, “sure. You nervous?”

Mickey looked at her, “what? Why would I be fuckin’ nervous for?”

“Ian likes you, Mick. Like, a lot. When you’re not with him, you’re all he talks about. And he really, really wants you to relax around his family so please just stop being so grumpy and enjoy Christmas.”

Mickey shook his head at his sisters words. She was right. Ian always talked about Mickey spending time with his family and stop being so tense around them.

“I’ll try.”

“Good. There is another thing though…”

“What?”

“Ian wants you to stop being so straight around them.”

Mickey laughed a little. “Fuck does that even mean? He really say that?”

“No,” Mandy giggled, “but it’s painful to watch you sit there and pretend you don’t want to snuggle up to him and shit. I see the way you get jealous when we’re close.”

“I don’t get fuckin’ jealous,” Mickey retorted as he parked the car by his building.

Once again, his sister was right again. Her and Ian were pretty close and affectionate around each other in other peoples company. Maybe he wanted that as well. So fucking what?

When they walked into the apartment, all three of the cats were straight at Mandy, meowing loudly and rubbing themselves against her legs.

“They like you,” Mickey smiled.

“Of course they do, how can you not like me?” Mandy squatted down to give the cats head scratches.

Mickey sat down on the sofa and flicked through the movie channels and left the film where the kid gets left in house and then fights off some burglars or something, it was festive enough.

“Present time,” Mandy declared, pulling out her present that she had left under Ian and Mickey’s tree.

Mandy handed him the gift and Mickey handed her an envelope and a small wrapped gift.

“A gift? That’s different,” Mandy hummed.

Mickey usually just gave her cash but Ian had been insistent that he got her a present as well.

“Nothin’ fancy,” Mickey shrugged, although he smiled at the look on his younger sister’s face as she unwrapped the gift with hasty excitement.

“Oh, wow,” Mandy opened the little box and stared at the small bracelet. Mandy gave Mickey a big kiss on his cheek as well as a tight hug.

“Yeah, yeah Merry Christmas, or whatever,” he said, but didn’t try and push her off him.

Mickey opened the present on his lap and laughed. “So is this a present for me, or my cats?” He held up the plush cat bed.

“Well, that one’s shitty,” Mandy pointed at the small tattered cat bed by the TV. “This one’s for you as well asshole.”

She handed him a smaller gift. It was a small book. She had filled it with the few pictures of them as children that existed. Mickey smiled as he flicked through the few pages, laughing a little at his younger self, who always looked like he was about to kill someone.

“What you think?” Mandy asked hopefully.

“Love it,” Mickey placed it on the table and gave Mandy a proper hug before they both leant back on the sofa to watch the rest of the movie.

The movie ended and they stood from the couch and stretched.

“Remember that you promised to try and relax, yeah?”

“Never said promise,” Mickey rolled his eyes, but he would still try.

He packed a duffel bag with the presents he’d bought for Ian’s siblings. He’d only bought them presents because Ian insisted. Not because he wanted everyone to like him and let him be one of them, of course not.

They drove back to the Gallagher house with the Christmas radio blaring loudly. Mickey thought about switching it off but one look at the bright smile on Mandy’s face as she danced in her seat, stopped him from doing so.

 

“Hey!” Ian’s face brightened instantly as his boyfriend walked through the door.

He wrapped his arms and embraced Mickey in a big hug, not caring about his rules on affection in front of people. It was fucking Christmas. Then Mickey surprised him.

He grabbed his face and pulled him into a long, doting kiss. When they pulled from the kiss, Mickey smirked at the little shock on Ian’s face.

“Merry fuckin’ Christmas,” Mickey grinned and quickly pecked Ian’s cheek as he walked further into the house.

Mickey looked around the room and relaxed. It was true. No one gave a fuck that they had just kissed. 

Everyone sat in a wonky circle, whether that was on a seat or on the floor as gifts that hadn’t been handed out earlier were exchanged.

Mickey handed his out a little awkwardly but was soon smiling like everyone else.

“Woah, cool!” Carl unwrapped his gift from Mickey and showed off the metal knuckle dusters.

“Uh,” Ian looked over at Mickey.

“What? He’s like thirteen, right?” Mickey didn’t seem to understand the problem in giving Carl weapons.

Carl put them on his fingers and they dropped a little. They were a little heavy and too big for his small fingers, but that still didn’t make him think they were any less cool.

Mickey gave an apologetic shrug to Fiona, who shook her head and left it at that.

“Oh fuck,” Mickey murmured.

“What?” Ian looked over at Mickey, who rummaged through his bag.

“Left Debbie’s present at home.”

“Oh. Go and get it then, take her with you. She’s been dying to see your cats.”

“Our cats,” Mickey corrected without realising he’d actually said that out loud.

Ian grinned at him and kissed his cheek, “be back in time for dinner, or Fi will kill you.”

“Debbie!” Mickey stood up from the sofa.

“Yeah?” Debbie stood up too, a little shocked at the sudden excitement in Mickey.

“Wanna come meet the cats?” Mickey offered with a smile.

“Yes! Yes!” Debbie was already walking to the door.

Fiona looked up, “woah, what? Dinner’s soon?”

“We’ll be quick,” Mickey promised as Debbie pulled on his shirtsleeve, ushering him to the door.

Fiona sighed, “fine. But if you’re late, I will kill you.”

Mickey threw a glance to Ian and his smug face. “I promise we won’t be late.”

***

Debbie sat down on the floor as the cats surrounded this new being. They sniffed every inch of her, making Debbie giggle a little as small whiskers tickled her skin.

“Be careful with that one,” Mickey laughed and warned her, “he bites.”

“No… he’s too cute for that,” Debbie shook her head in disbelief. But then, so perfectly timed, his little teeth gnawed at her hands. “Ow.”

“I think I left your present in my room, one second,” Mickey said as he wandered off to the bedroom to search for the present.

When he came back into the room, he smiled at Debbie. She sat crossed legged on the floor with her back against the sofa. The two smaller cats had fallen asleep in her lap, whilst Minerva continued to walk around her, begging for attention with loud mewls.

Mickey awkwardly managed to sit on the floor and handed her the gift.

“Oo, thank you,” she smiled and ripped off the paper.

“I don’t really know much about that shit, so I just bought a bunch of random crap.”

“Woah,” Debbie opened the box that Mickey had filled with random makeup items.

He really didn’t know what to get her. She was a girl. She was a young teenager. Makeup was the only thing he could think would work. And it did.

“Awesome,” Debbie gave Mickey a hug with her free arm. “My present for you is in my bag,” she pointed at the backpack and Mickey pulled it towards her so she could pull out the gift wrapped in a shiny silver paper.

She handed it to Mickey and urged him to unwrap it.

“It’s kind of for Ian as well, but I want you to open it now.”

Mickey pulled the paper off and found a smile creep on his face as he held the present, unwrapped, in his hand.

It was a photograph. Debbie had made the frame out of clay and painted it in pinks and reds and small flowers and stars. The photograph in the middle was a candid of him and Ian on the Gallagher sofa. They were tangled in each other, with huge smiles on their faces as they looked into each other’s eyes.

“What do you think?” Deb hopefully asked.

“I fuckin’ love it,” Mickey smiled and stared at the picture a little longer before realising the time. “Fuck, we gotta go.”

Debbie frowned as she had to take the cats from her lap and stand up. She zipped her bag up and threw it over her shoulder as she walked to the door.

Mickey propped the photograph up by the TV and smiled at it once more before leaving the apartment.

***

They made it back just one minute before the deadline and everyone had already begun to sit at the table. Another table had been found to extend the one already there to make room for everybody.

Mickey sat down next to Ian and nervously tapped his fingers on his lap. Food was soon placed on the table, the music was turned up, and everyone dug into the Christmas dinner.

Mickey calmed a little when the beer was handed out and he finally got some alcohol in him.

“You OK there, Mick?” Ian looked at Mickey picking his food with his fork.

“Oh, yeah, “ Mickey looked down.

“Mandy told me about your promise, you better start working on it,” Ian said.

“I am trying, it’s just different.”

Mickey felt Ian’s hand rest on his knee and move to his own hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. “I love you, Mick.”

Mickey looked around the room quickly. Everyone was distracted with conversation or food. And when he looked at Ian, he forgot about anyone else's presence.

“I love you too,” Mickey smiled and relaxed.

Ian had that big stupid grin on his face again that made it impossible for Mickey not to smile as well. Ian placed a kiss on his cheek as they went back to the food.

 

The day ended like the night before, except with more alcohol in them. Ian and Mickey were pressed against each other on the couch, kissing eagerly in the dark as they slowly grinded their bodies together.

“Mm, too tired,” Mickey murmured as he felt a hand creep down his back and to his ass.

“Come on, I’ll do all the work,” Ian bit gently at Mickey’s lip.

“Lube’s in my bag,” Micke gave in.

Ian rummaged for a second before he pulled the lube out of his bag. “Do you take lube with you everywhere you go?” Ian laughed, “How do you want to do this?”

Mickey replied by throwing his leg over Ian to straddle him. “This OK?” he asked, although he already had his own fingers lubed up to open himself up.

Ian’s jaw was a little slack. The sight of watching Mickey hover a little above him as he bit back small moans was so intimate and so perfect that Ian wasn’t sure how long he’d last.

It was like Mickey had read his mind. He saw the impatient look on his face and they way he not-so-subtly grinded his hips up.

Mickey took his fingers out and pushed Ian’s cock into him. It was slow, but not staggering. He didn't stop until he was flush against him, his breath shallow and panting.

He lifted up and down slowly. He was tired. But he also just wanted to feel this moment.

The pace soon quickened as Ian's hands went to Mickey’s hips to pull him down with each thrust.

“Mhm, fuck,” Mickey moaned as he lowered himself down to press their chests together and get a better, much better, angle.

“Shh shh, don't want to - mm - wake anyone up, do you?” Ian tried to shut Mickey's moans up with his mouth as he pressed their mouths together.

“Fuck everyone,” Mickey mumbled.

Ian thrust quickly and he knew he was getting close. He took a hand off Mickey's hips to wrap around his dick to bring him close as well.

“Fuck, Ian, fuck” Mickey moaned into his mouth, “I fucking love you.”

Fuck. Mickey rarely said that. And he'd never said that during sex.

It pushed them both over the edge and they both came quickly and with the others name on their lips.

Mickey wiped them both with Ian’s t-shirt that had been discarded on the floor. Then he rolled off and pulled the blanket over themselves.

There was a moment where they were both just catching their breath and thinking about what had happened when Mickey broke the silence with a typical Mickey phrase.

“Fuck you,” he tilted his head up to kiss his neck, “thought you said you were gonna do all the work.”

“It was a joint effort,” Ian sat up slightly to lean and kiss Mickey’s lips, and then lay his head back down and cozy up to Mickey.

“You didn't say it back,” Mickey mumbled.

“Say what back?”

Mickey clicked his tongue with impatience, embarrassed to say it again, but nonetheless, he said it again. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Ian replied before they closed their eyes and slept off what they both thought was the best Christmas ever.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Mickey sat up on the bed on a particularly cold day. It was only just February. Christmas, snow, cold, the whole wintery shit, had lost its novelty. He pulled the plush blanket around himself as Minerva jumped off his lap to be elsewhere.

He checked his phone for any messages of Ian. There were none.

Ian had gone to another, yes, another, Gallagher party. They seemed to happen all the time. It was really just an excuse to get together and get shit-faced drunk. Mickey couldn’t even remember what excuse they had to celebrate this time, something about Fiona getting a new job, or Carl breaking a leg.

Ian had begged Mickey to come but he had to say no this time. They were around each other a lot. Pretty much all the time. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world because they both just loved being near each other but sometimes it caused tension.

They weren’t perfect. They had perfect moments, but weren’t perfect. Although their “fights” were often a short lived, angry exchange of words, then they’d fuck out their frustrations and everything ended up OK.

Today though, Mickey was feeling particularly wound up about nothing in particular and he just wasn’t in the mood for people incase he got angry, so he decided it’d be best if he didn’t go to this Gallagher party.

Now he was just bored.

He turned on his phone and started playing one of the card games he downloaded. Fucking boring. He leaned over and opened the drawer and took a joint and a lighter. Now playing cards on his phone would be a little less boring.

He smoked the joint quickly and let out a long sigh as he felt his high slip across his body and in his mind.

His phone buzzed.

Ian (20:12): miss you x

Mickey smiled a little, knowing that he hadn’t been completely forgotten. But he wasn’t about to let Ian know how much a simple text could make him smile.

Mickey (20:13): get off your phone and enjoy yourself

Ian (20:14): no fun without you :(. Thinking about you is fun tho ;))

Then his phone rang and he answered it straight away.

“Miiickeeeyyy, I miss you,” Ian slurred down the phone, “miss your ass as well, ha.”

“You fuckin’ drunk already?” Mickey laughed, Ian had only been gone for a couple of hours.

“Mm, not that drunk, just bored.”

“What you callin’ me for? Go have fun with your family.”

“I missed your voice,” Ian laughed a little down the phone, “I’m, uh, hiding in the bathroom if you wanna send me dirty texts.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, and spoke when he realised Ian wouldn’t have seen that, “I’m not sexting you, fuck off,” Mickey also laughed a little, “enjoy the party, Red.”

He hung up. He would’ve loved to talk to Ian all night but he wanted Ian to enjoy himself at the party. Ian was constantly worrying about Mickey, and Mickey just wanted him to have a night to himself and to have fun.

Ian (20:26): can’t wait to come home to your finee ass :)

Ian (20:27): just thinkin about your ass and the things im gonna do to you when i get home is getting me hard

Mickey (20:27): i know what youre tryn to do, you aint subtle. Stop textin me and enjoy yourself

Ian (20:28): hmmm but i am enjoying myself right now, texting you

Ian (20:30): just thinking about bending you over and fucking u slowly until your begging me to fuck you hard rough and fast. That's an enjoyable thought, more fun than this party.

Mickey stared at the message and shook his head. He was about to type another message to tell him whatever he was trying to do, he should stop, it wasn’t working (although the tightness of Mickey’s pants said otherwise).

Ian (20:32): or even better, just lying down and let you ride me like a fucking whore. You look so hot when you’re on top biting your lip and running your fingers through my hair and moaning my name. Fucking beautiful.

Mickey wasn’t going to let Ian win. But now he was hard. Fucking Ian.

Mickey (20:33): come home.

Mickey (20:33): now.

Ian (20:34): why? Thought you wanted me to have fun?

Mickey (20:35): fine. i ll just jerk off by myself.

Mickey sighed in frustration. He did want Ian to enjoy himself, but now he’d ruined it by sending them fucking texts and now Mickey was hot and in need of a fuck.

Ian (20:36): think of me when you do x

Mickey (20:36) you know i will

Mickey turned his phone off and put his hands down his pants to rub his needy cock. He pumped his hand up and down quickly. It was getting him somewhere but it wasn’t getting him there. Fuck.

How does anyone go back to jerking off after having sex with Ian. This was nothing compared to Ian. Nothing compared to feeling the heat of his body, the warmth of his fingers, the nip of his teeth,the sound of his voice.

“Fuuuck,” he sighed and took his hand off. All it was doing was making him hotter and more frustrated.

Mickey (20:43): its not the same

Ian (20:43): what?

Mickey (20:45): i cant fuckin jack off. Its nothing compared to the way you fill me up

Mickey couldn’t believe himself. He was going to play Ian’s game, hoping it’d help him get somewhere.

Ian (20:47): oh. So now you wanna play my game?

Mickey (20:48): fuck.yes. so either you play as well or i go watch some porn and hope that helps

Ian (20:49): just think, ill be over soon to grip your hair and hold you down as i pound your hot ass

Mickey wet his lips a little as he thought about that.

Ian (20:50): sure, hearing u say my name is good and all, but remember what i sound like saying ur name? Mm, mickey, you're such a good boy for me

Oh fuck. This was a bad idea. Now Mickey REALLY needed Ian to come fuck him. Fuck him and his game.

He pressed the call button and Ian picked up straight away.

“Get your fuckin’ ass down here,” Mickey demanded before Ian even got the chance to say ‘hello’’.

“Someone’s needy,” Ian replied and Mickey could practically hear his smirk down the phone.

“Yeah, congratulations Captain Obvious,” Mickey impatiently replied, “I swear to fuck. If you don’t get your sexy redhead ass down here in twenty, I won’t be fuckin’ pleased.”

There’s a pause and Mickey can hear the distant sounds of music and voices, but they're distant and only seem to be getting more distant. He hears the opening and closing of a door and knows that Ian left the house.

“Get yourself ready, open yourself up for me,” Ian said, and he hung up.

Mickey chucked his phone aside and quickly grabbed the lube. He tried to calculate how long he had until Ian got here. He was taking the car so, ten minutes.

He stopped to breathe. He closed his eyes and thought about the texts. Fuck Ian for managing to get him horny from a few texts.

As Ian walked into the apartment, he started taking his clothes off before he'd even reached the bedroom.

“Fuck you,” Mickey pulled his own fingers out of himself as Ian walked in. “Now, fuck me.”

“Look at how good you are,” Ian leans against the doorframe, in just his underwear, “I tell you to finger yourself, and you do it. You're so perfect, Mickey.”

“Yeah, yeah, now’s not the time for sweet talk. Now’s the time for you to be gettin’ on me,” Mickey impatiently replied.

“I don't know, I think I'd rather sand here and watch you,” Ian said with a smirk.

Mickey rolled his eyes and stood up from the bed. He walked to Ian and lightly pushed him on the chest, mainly to just touch him, but also because he was impatient.

“That wasn't an option,” he whispered down Ian’s ear as he grinded his body against his. “Fuck you, Ian, and your stupid texts.”

“Oh come on, you loved them,” Ian pinned him against the wall and slowly left kisses down his neck.

“How was the party, huh? You miss me?”

“Did I not say that enough? Yeah I missed you. What was that? Three hours? What can I say? You're irresistible.”

Ian gripped Mickey's hips as he threw them both onto the bed. Mickey eagerly tugged at Ian's underwear and shoved the lube into his hands.

Mickey subconsciously bit his lip as he watched Ian slick his hard cock up. He braced himself but Ian had other plans. He flipped them both over so now Mickey was on top straddling him.

“Ride me, baby, come on,” Ian's voice was low as he slowly grinded his hips up onto Mickey.

Mickey was so lost and hot in the moment that he didn't even scald him for the stupid pet name. In fact, he wouldn't admit it though, it turned him on even more.

Mickey pushed himself down slowly onto Ian's cock, biting back a low groan as he did so. He spread his hands out on Ian's chest, loving the feeling of skin on skin.

Now wasn’t the time for Mickey to get lost in feelings and shit. Now was the time for a good fuck.

He lifted himself up and down as Ian thrust up quickly. Ian's hands gripped at Mickey's, his fingers brushing on the inside of his thighs.

“Did you - miss me, too?” Ian asked, earning him an eye roll.

“You really wanna chit chat whilst - mm, fuck - whilst we're fucking?”

“Yes,” Ian smirked.

“Fine, yeah I missed you.”

“Missed me or my dick?”

Mickey laughed and pushed down quickly to fill himself up. “Both. Did you miss me, or just my ass?”

“Hmm, I missed you, and you're grumpy ass.”

Ian thrust up some more until he knew he was close. His fingers wrapped around Mickey's cock to pump in time with their movements.

“Hm, fuck,” Mickey sighed as he came onto Ian's chest, Ian following just seconds after.

He stayed on top for just a moment before reluctantly climbing off him to lay down next to him. Ian took a shirt from the end of the bed to quickly wipe themselves and then discarding it onto the floor to worry about later.

Mickey laced their fingers together and kissed his cheek, not caring how soft he got after sex. Ian smiled.

The lay their for a bit, breathing heavily and occasionally catching each other's eye.

“I was thinking,” Ian began, “all we do is fuck.”

“What? No it's not. We go to work, we watch TV, we take naps in the middle of the day, we eat microwavable pasta, we do loads,” Mickey sat up to look at Ian.

“Yeah, but, I mean like, it's the same thing everyday.”

“So? What's wrong with that?”

“Well, it's boring. Aren't you bored?”

Mickey pulled his hand away and blinked at him. What the fuck? Is this Ian's way of saying he didn't like him? That he was bored of him?

“No, I'm not fuckin’ bored. Lovin’ me that boring, huh” Mickey raised his voice as he left the bed and started getting dressed.

“That's not what I meant, Mick.”

“Then what the fuck did you mean? You bored of me? This your way of saying you wanna find someone more interesting?” Mickey's voice cracked a little as he started to shout.

He wasn't sure if he was going to cry or punch a wall. Either way, he didn't want to find out. He picked his jacket from the floor and grabbed his smokes as he went to leave.

“You're overreacting, Mick,” Ian rolled his eyes at him, now he was getting pissed off as well.

“Oh, fuck off!” Mickey stormed out of their apartment, making sure the door slammed as he did so.

***

Mickey had been gone for a couple of hours now and Ian had calmed down. He would have followed him out to comfort him but, he had a feeling that would make it worse.

He pulled on his shoes and left the apartment. He had a feeling he knew where Mickey was.

He walked slowly up the stairs of the building and finally reached the door to the roof, pushing it open easily.

Mickey was sat down on the floor, leaning back on the half-wall. He looked up at Ian as he stepped out onto the roof, but didn't say anything.

Ian sat down next to him and took the cigarette from Mickey's mouth. He took a long drag and handed it back.

“I'm sorry,” Ian said.

“No, I'm sorry, I knew that wasn't what you meant,” Mickey sighed. “Do you want like a puppy or something? That'd be exciting.”

Ian laughed and shook his head. “Then we’d have to get rid of the cats, and I really like them. That's also not what I meant.”

“Then what the fuck did you mean?”

“I’m not sure,” Ian sighed and rest his head back against the wall. “I love spending time with you, I love you. But I want to do more things with you. I wanna leave this shithole city and see what's out there.”

“Oh.”

“I'm not saying I'm not happy with how we are now. I love it, I really do.”

“But why leave? We've managed to make a shitty one-bed in the heart of the shithole, our home.”

“Home isn't a place, Mickey. Home’s a feeling. I'm not saying we leave tonight, I'm not saying we leave in ten years. I'm just saying, I want to do something exciting with you. Set a car on fire, rob a bank, stab some fuckers.”

Mickey laughed a little, “how about something less destructive? You tryna say you want to go on dates or something? Because I'll gladly treat you to dinner if it means you won't start stabbing people.”

“I love you, Mickey,” Ian murmured as his fingers traced his jaw and then pulled him up to look at him.

They kissed slowly.

“I love you too, you psychopath,” Mickey laughed and locked their lips together again.

***

Mickey stretched and cracked his knuckles.

“You have to stop that,” Ian shook his head at him.

“Stop what?” Mickey replied with a sly smile.

“You know what.”

“Oh,” Mickey smirked and proceeded to crack his fingers, “this?”

“Mickey,” Ian sternly warned, although he couldn't help the little smile creep on his lips at how amused Mickey looked.

Mickey climbed back on top of him to click a finger right in his ear. “Fuck you gonna do ‘bout it?”

Mickey smirked and rolled his hips a little. He stopped clicking his fingers and rested his hands on Ian’s shoulders. Fuck, did he have nice shoulders.

Ian rolled his eyes and gently pushed Mickey off him so he could change into some clothes. Sure, they liked being naked. But it was fucking cold.

Mickey rolled off Ian and lazily dressed into sweatpants and a hoodie before climbing back in bed to cuddle close to him. 

They were silent. But it was a nice silence. The kind of silence they could occupy with gentle touches and soft sighs.

The silence is rudely interrupted by a loud knock at the door.

“Go get the door,” Mickey nudged Ian.

“You’re more dressed, you get it,” Ian nudged him back.

Mickey groaned and reluctantly left the bed to drag himself to the door. He fumbled with the lock but managed to open the door quickly to see who was there.

Fuck.

“The fuck you doin’ here,” Mickey panicked a little and stood in the way of the door in case he tried to invite himself in.

“Not inviting me in?” Iggy shrugged at him.

“No, I am not inviting you in. Now is not the fuckin’ time, I swear to fuck I’ll kill you,” Mickey kept his voice low so Ian couldn’t hear but still loud enough to threaten his fuckwit brother.

“Ooh,” he smirked, “you got a girl in there?”

Mickey glared back, “yes, I got a fuckin’ girl over, so it’s time for you to leave.”

Iggy craned his neck to try and look in, but that only made Mickey push him back further. He almost got away with it, but then Ian called from the bedroom.

“Who is it, Mick?” Ian shouted.

Iggy let out a small laugh and a wink, “a girl, yeah? Should have guessed you liked taking it up the ass. Your haircut says it all” he laughed. 

“It’s nobody, I’ll be back in a minute,” Mickey called back to Ian before turning his attention back to Iggy and - fuck. “No, no, fuck you bringing him here for?”

“He’s your baby - not mine,” Iggy bounced the baby in his arms.

Mickey rolled his eyes. Now was not the fucking time for this. His brother needed to leave right fucking now.

Iggy was right. It was his kid, technically. That kid had his DNA, and that’s the extent of their relationship. Fuck, Mickey didn’t even stay to find out what his name was.

A little less than a couple of years ago, Mickey got shit-faced drunk. So drunk, he didn’t even believe - or remember - he’d fucked Iggy’s girl. When the kid was born, she insisted he got a DNA test, even if Iggy and her were going to look after him. The test proved he was Mickey’s, and that was that. Iggy and the girl moved away with the kid. Mickey was fine with that.

That was the fucking messy story that he didn’t need Ian questioning him about. Ian had heard about messy shit from his past, and still stayed. But this was something major yet unnecessary because as far as anyone was concerned, that’s Iggy and his girlfriend’s baby.

Mickey stared at the little baby. He had grown a lot since he’d seen him. Fuck. He must be like, thirteen months? Twelve months old? He had a cute tuft of black hair and brilliant blue eyes. His little mouth was curved into a cute smile.

Mickey had no emotional attachment to him. At least, he tried not to. It was easier if he forgot about him, let Iggy and his girlfriend look after him. It’d just be confusing for everyone.

However, he couldn’t deny that he felt a warmth and a smile that threatened to break free when he looked at him. He didn’t want to sound like some girl or anything, but when he made eye contact with him, there was a strange connection.

“What’d you name him?” Mickey asked curiously.

“Thirteen months old and you don’t even know his name,” Iggy joked, but Mickey just asked again. “It’s Wolfgang Ivan, Wolfgang Ivan Milkovich.”

“Wolfgang Ivan?” Mickey scoffed, although when he said and looked at the baby, there was something cool about it. “Fuck kind of name is that?”

“She named him. Look, I gotta make this fucking quick. Me and my girl, we gotta fucking disappear for a bit. I got into some trouble with the West boys, and now they’re after us or some shit. I’m not sure right now but…”

Mickey knew where this was going. Iggy had his kid in his arms and a duffel bag filled with presumably with the baby’s things.

“But what? I can’t fuckin’ take him. He’s your fuckin’ kid now, we went through this,” Mickey protested but still reached out to hold the baby in his arms as Iggy pushed him into him

“DNA tests say otherwise little brother,” Iggy dropped the bag. “Look, I’ll be in touch soon. Hopefully shit will blow over, yeah?”

“Last time you said shit would blow over, you got shot, twice. And the time before that, you went to prison for three years.”

Iggy shrugged and gave his son a small pat on the head before running down the hall, knowing Mickey wouldn’t run after him.

“What the FUCK, Iggs?” Mickey shouted as his brother ran off.

Mickey stood still for a moment, rocking his arms slightly. He’d never held him before. It was pissing him off. He’d worked so hard to forget about the baby, but now, he was in his arms, falling asleep as Mickey swayed him gently.

Mickey was feeling that warm parental connection shit that he’d managed to repress but fuck, this was his son.

Mickey dragged the duffel bag inside and closed the door.

He took a deep breath. Fuck. How was he going to explain this to Ian? He’d stayed with him after he’d told about his fucked past but, this was different. Iggy would be back, right? So, this was only temporary.

That’s it. He just needed to remember this was temporary. Something Ian and he would just deal with for like, a couple of days?

Wolf snuggled his face into Mickey’s chest. He sighed gently at the feeling of being needed and wanted by the kid. He just needed to keep in mind, this was only temporary, and he shouldn’t get attached.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ok, so this chapter got a little long but I've just been having a real bad time with real life things and this writing is how I take a moment to just focus on something. I really enjoyed writing this chapter for some reason, haha, enjoy.

Mickey stood still for a moment. His mind raced with excuses to give Ian. Fuck. His brother is a fucking dead man, fuck.

“Who was at... the... door…” Ian walked out of the bedroom and stopped in his tracks when he saw Mickey cradling a sleeping baby in his arms.

“My brother,” Mickey said without looking up.

“And who’s this?” Ian asked.

“Uh, my brother’s kid,” Mickey lied. He decided it was best if Ian didn't know. If it was only a temporary thing, then it wouldn’t really matter whose baby Ian thought it was.

Ian walked over to Mickey and gently stroked the kids forehead. He had a soft spot for babies. Always had. Growing up a Gallagher with basically non-existent parents, everyone had to help raise each other. 

He had never really thought about having kids himself. He used to think it would happen, but when he came to terms with being gay, he gave up on that. Now that he was with Mickey, he was almost certain that would never happen, he was content with just them two and the cats. He also got the feeling that Mickey probably didn’t like babies and kids.

But seeing Mickey stood there, rocking his arms gently, looking down at the kid. It gave Ian a warm feeling and fuck, he looked good like that.

“Look, my brother’s got himself into some trouble, so he’s dumped his kid on me. He said he’d be back when shit blows over but, once he said that and he ended up in prison for a few years so… I don’t know what the fuck to do. Just,” Mickey let out a heavy sigh and looked up at Ian, “just don’t leave me. Please?”

“Mickey,” Ian stepped closer to place his hands on either side of his face and make him look up, “I’m never leaving you. You’re stuck,” he laughed and kissed Mickey’s small smile, “besides, your brother’s coming back, right? We’ll get through this.”

“I don’t know the first thing about babies,” Mickey let out a small shaky laugh. “I’m gonna be a shit dad.”

“Hey! You haven’t abandoned him in a dumpster yet, so you’re doing better than mine,” Ian reassured Mickey, even if it wasn’t that hard to be a better dad than Frank.

“And I haven’t abandoned him in the restroom of some bar in Indiana after picking up a shit ton of heroin,” Mickey said with a smirk.

“Oh, is this going to turn into a whos dad was shittier competition?” Ian laughed, but then stopped to laugh quieter as the baby wriggled, but didn’t wake up. “What’s this cuties name, anyway?”

“Wolfgang, but I’m just going to call him Wolf, because what kind of fuckin’ name is Wolfgang?”

“I think it’s a pretty cool name,” he smiled and kissed Mickey’s cheek.

“Yeah, well, it is better than Ian,” Mickey grinned.

“So now you wanna talk about who has the worst name, Mikhailo?”

“Fuck off,” he laughed.

“Mikhailo is a cool name though, not going to lie but, I do prefer Mickey.”

“Where’s he supposed to sleep?” Mickey looked around their tiny apartment.

There was already himself, Ian, Minerva, Minerva's two kittens - which had already grown so much - and now, although probably for no more than a few months, a baby. Not even a small baby, Iggy said he was thirteen months old, but that didn’t really mean anything to Mickey. His knowledge on babies wasn’t the best.

The apartment had three rooms, technically four. The bedroom, the bathroom, the living room, and then the half wall that seperated the kitchen to the living room.

“We can open a drawer in the bedroom and stuff it with blankets and clothes and he can sleep in there. That’s how the Gallagher babies, up to Carl, slept, and we turned out fine.”

“Yeah, OK, but, what about…” Mickey trailed off, his face filling with a warm blush.

“What about what, Milkovich?” Ian teased and smirked at him.

“You really gonna make me spell it out?” he looked up at Ian and his cocky smirk. “What about fuckin’, huh? Don’t wanna scar him.”

“Wolf’s not going to be here forever. You really can’t abstain for that long?”

Mickey sighed with frustration and raised his brow at Ian’s smug face, “no. No I cannot. Remember that time we went like three whole fuckin’ days without sex? I almost fuckin’ died.”

“Well, that’s tough, that’s life.” Ian shrugged. 

“What if my brother’s gone more than a few days, huh? I’ll miss you,” Mickey looked up to Ian with big eyes.

“Debbie, she really likes babies, I’m sure she’d be happy to babysit. Plus, there’s more places to fuck than just the bedroom, just like there’s drawers in the living room you can put him to sleep in. Just, don’t close the drawers, that’s a bad idea.”

Mickey grinned and shook his head. He looked back down at Wolf, who was now awake, staring back up at him. “He’s pretty fuckin’ cute, isn’t he?”

“Yeah he is. Your brother look much like you?”

“What? No.”

“Oh, it’s just that Wolf’s got your hair, and your gorgeous eyes.”

Mickey looked down at him. Ian was right. 

Ian’s hands rested on Mickey’s waist as he swayed slightly, letting Wolf babble for a moment before drifting back to sleep again. They slowly walked around the room as the kid yawned and snuggled his face into Mickey’s chest.

They drifted around the room and then it hit Mickey. They were technically dancing. This was technically slow dancing. That’s shit couples do, right? He looked at Ian, who had a big smile on his face. Mickey smiled back.

Even though this wasn’t what Ian meant when he wanted something exciting in his life, they were going to have to deal with it. And if it meant they got to have this moment, slowly dancing around the room together, then it was worth it.

They spent the next few hours sat on the sofa, the TV playing quietly. They were cuddled close together, with Wolf asleep in Mickey’s arms.

The kid was oddly calm. Mickey hadn’t had much experience with babies, but what he had had, they were always screaming and always stank of shit. It put him off. But little Wolf was calm and when he woke up, he’d just look at Mickey with big eyes and a bright smile.

Mickey glanced at Ian and saw he seemed engrossed in the TV. He looked down at Wolf and stuck his tongue out, earning him the cutest little giggle. He did it again and made a sound, which only made the kid giggle louder. Mickey couldn’t help it but laugh a little as well.

Ian looked at his boyfriend making silly faces at the baby. He looked so happy. Ian had been with Mickey for so long. He’d seen him smile before, he’d seen the soft side to him that he never knew existed until he really got to know him. But this was completely new. And it looked good on him.

Mickey looked up to Ian and caught him staring.

“What you starin’ at, Red?” Mickey said, although he couldn’t hide the grin spread across his face.

Ian’s answer was a long, slow kiss, until they were interrupted by Wolf’s little squeal. Mickey pulled away to look back down at the baby with a smile.

“I’ll text around, see if Fiona or Debbie can take him at work until we figure something out,” Ian said.

Mickey’s face fell, he knew he had to let the baby leave his arms at one point, and he’d forgotten about work. “Can’t I just skip work? Call in sick?”

“Well, realistically no. Even if Wolf is just staying for a while, we’re going to need all the money we can get.”

“I guess. I could start dealing again, get my ass back in jail,” Mickey said with a shrug.

“You’ve been to jail?” Ian asked.

“Oh, yeah, went to juvie when I was thirteen for a whole year. They caught me with the tiniest amount of weed. It wasn’t technically juvie though, uh, youth rehabilitation or some shit.”

“You were pretty badass as a kid, huh? I had a good honest job when I was thirteen, and I only smoked weed on the weekends. Ha,” Ian shook his head at Mickey and smiled. Fuck, Mickey was just so interesting.

“If we need more money, I could just deal again.”

“And get yourself arrested? That’d really help. I know it sucks but, we got to make our money honestly, set a good example for Wolf. I’ve been invited to go out with Lip and some of his friends in a few days, I’ll ask around town, see what jobs there are.”

Mickey nodded. This was all real now. They had been fine before. They had enough money for cheap food, cigarettes, cat food, and rent. That was all they needed. Now, they would need baby stuff.

He was relieved, though. Ian hadn’t took off yet. Ian was thinking of plans and how they’d get through this and fuck, Mickey was grateful. If Ian wasn’t here, Mickey probably would have just panicked and gave the kid to the system to just forget about.

Ian took his phone from the table to text Fiona.

Ian (16:03): Hey

Fiona (16:04): Hey! How you doing?

Ian (16:04): Im good, we got a situation tho, need help

Fiona (16:05): Situation? If it’s about money, I’m strapped for cash right now.

Ian (16:07): no no. is debs free? 5- 11?

Fiona (16:07): Why? I’ll go ask.

Fiona (16:12): She says it depends. She’s free if it’s got anything to do with Mickey’s cats though, ha ha! 

Ian (16:14): can you bring her down to the bar later? Or she can go with V, she usually comes at 6?

Fiona (16:15): I’ll ask V. Everything OK?

Ian (16:16): all good. We ll drive debs home, dont worry. Thanks fi :)

“Debbie’s going to get to the bar at like six, so it looks like we’ll have a new little bartender for a while,” Ian laughed. “Here, pass him.”

“Thanks. I need to get dressed for work,” Mickey stood from the sofa and very reluctantly handed Wolf over to Ian.

He was slow to move his hands away. Mickey had always told himself he didn’t get attached to things or people. But when Ian came along, that proved that wrong. And now it had just taken him three minutes to hand his - no, Iggy’s -son over to Ian.

Mickey got dressed quicker than he had ever done before and was quickly back on the sofa with Wolf crawling in the space next to him, making adorable babbling sounds. Ian stood up and stretched. He smiled once more at Mickey and Wolf, before heading to the bedroom to get dressed himself.

He had almost made it to the bedroom. He was walking slowly backwards so he could make silly faces at a giggling Wolf. Mickey held him up over his shoulder so he could point and giggle at Ian. Then Ian failed to see the sleeping cat and tripped over, knocking over a small table and a plastic cup in the process.

Wolf thought this was hilarious. He jumped slightly, clapping his hands, and squealing in delight. Mickey muttered something about Ian being ‘a fuckin’ clutz’.

“What was that?” Ian not-so-casually stood back up, and picked up what he had knocked off.

“I said, hurry your clumsy ass up!”

The kid was calm, to some extent. He wasn’t crying, so that was calm enough. He was rather “grabby”. He put his little fingers in Mickey’s hair and gripped hard, hard enough to make Mickey give the kid a death threat through gritted teeth. By some miracle, the death threat seemed to work, and Wolf’s hands left his hair and decided to go back to slapping the sofa.

Sherlock jumped onto the sofa and froze at the sight of the baby. Wolf froze, too. They were having some sort of staring competition. Until, Sherlock started purring and rubbed himself against him. Mickey was about to push the cat away in fear that Wolf’s grabby fingers would hurt him, but the baby was gently patting the cat.

Mickey had this weird feeling inside of him. A good one, but, still weird. He wans’t quite sure if it was pride or just a really good happy feeling. Either way, it left a big grin on his face. Wolf was pretty fucking amazing.

Then he started crying.

“Oh… fuck,” Mickey muttered and picked him, rocking him, but it only made him cry louder. “IAN? HELP?” Mickey shouted at the bedroom door.

Ian walked out and smirked at Mickey’s attempts to stop him crying.

“Fuck do I do?” Mickey looked panicked and walked up to Ian to try and hand him the baby.

Ian leaned against the door frame and shrugged his shoulders and said, “smell him.”

“Smell h-. Oh, fuck, that’s nasty.”

Ian laughed and picked up the bag that Iggy had left. “I’ll do it. On one condition…”

“And that is?”

“You tell me how much you love me?” Ian said with a hopeful smile.

“Fuck off, and change his diaper. You know how much I love you,” Mickey handed him baby Wolf and kissed his cheek.

“Go warm the car up, we’ll only take a couple of minutes. Won’t we, little Wolfie?”

Mickey smiled to himself as he left, hearing Ian talk in a cutesy voice to Wolf.

***

“Who’s this?” Kev asked as they walked into the bar.

“My brother’s kid, he dropped him on us today so either I don’t work or he joins us for a couple of hours,” Mickey said, dropping his stuff behind the bar and holding Wolf with the other arm.

“Debbie’s coming over with V so she can take him then,” Ian added.

“OK OK. Just don’t be giving him free beer,” Kev laughed and stuck his tongue out at Wolf. “Cute kid.”

Luckily, it was a slow night. Ian did most the work and let Mickey sit on a stool whilst he tried to entertain Wolf with stupid faces and tickles. 

Everytime Mickey looked up from the kid, he caught Ian staring at him with a massive grin on his face. Mickey smiled too, but also stuck his middle finger up at him to remind him that Mickey Milkovich was a badass and that pulling faces at babies didn’t make him soft.

“Yo, I’m gonna go for a smoke,” Mickey stood of from the stool and held Wolf close, wrapping the blanket around him, knowing it was pretty cold outside.

“Debbie’s going to be here in twenty so, you can actually do some work,” Ian said with a smile.

Mickey wandered outside into the cold Chicago air. It was snowing ever so lightly. The snow landed on the blanket Wolf was wrapped in, making the deep red become speckled with snow. Wolfgang yawned and wriggled a little in the blanket.

He sat down on a nearby bench and held Wolf up so he could sit up on his lap. Mickey used his free hand to look for a pack of cigarettes, only to find it empty. Fucking great.

Mickey held Wolf with both his hands and looked into his big blue eyes.

“What are we gonna do with you, hm?” he mutters at the kid. “He messed with the West boys, and they ain’t known for being too kind. I can’t keep you forever, you know that?”

“Oogah!” Wolfgang gargled.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s a big fuckin’ ‘oogah’. Can you keep a secret, Wolf?”

“Oogah!” Wolf replied.

“You ain’t gonna snitch? I trust you,” Mickey gave the kid a serious look, even though he wasn’t really going to understand what he was saying. “You can’t tell Ian. He’ll either take off, or try and keep you. It’s not that I don’t want you, it’s just, I’ll be shit at raising you. You were doin’ better with Iggy, yeah?”

Wolf burped, then giggled. Mickey smiled and shook his head.

“Look, I ain’t your dad. And I won’t ever be. So, don’t get attached, yeah? If you won’t, I won’t.”

Mickey smiled sadly at Wolf. He was so young and happy. He didn’t know how shit life could get. It took Mickey twenty one years to actually find a reason to live, to carry on with life, to not throw himself in front of a fucking train.

“Don’t ever grow up, kid,” Mickey pulled the baby close to him, for both warmth and comfort.

***

Kev left as soon as V arrived, pulling one last silly face at Wolf, then turning to Veronica to rant about cute babies.

Debbie sat at the bar and Mickey apprehensively handed her Wolf. Ian was right about Debbie liking babies. She held him right, and entertained him with Liam’s ‘emergency toy’ that she kept in her backpack in case they went out and he started to fuss.

“He’s so-o cute,” Debbie cooed at the baby, “he looks like you.” She smiled and looked up at Mickey as he cleaned glasses behind the bar.

“He’s my brother’s,” Mickey replied, “but, yeah, he is cute.”

It was ten o’clock when Frank stumbled in and sat down at the bar, laying some - likely stolen - cash on the bar. 

“Alcohol me, my dear Milkovich,” Frank sat up, taking the pint from Mickey’s hand. He turned in his stool and stared at Debbie for a second. “How old are you?”

“Fourteen,” she replied.

“And is that another Gallagher?”

“Oh, no, this is Mickey’s baby.”

“My brother’s,” Mickey corrected.

Frank scoffs and turns to Mickey. “Worse than another Gallagher. You know, Milkoviches used to run this fucking neighbourhood, you, Michael Milkovich, you’re a fucking pussy, bet your son’s going to be one, too.”

Ian throws a worried look at Mickey. His hands were balled into fists. His face was red with anger and he looked ready to throw a punch. He lurched forward and grabbed Frank’s shirt collar.

“Mick!” Ian shouted as Mickey’s fist greeted Frank’s face.

Frank fell off the stool and to the floor. He stood up and brushed it off like it was nothing.

“Get the fuck outta the bar, Frank, before a pop a fuckin’ bullet into your alcoholic piece of shit face,” Mickey shouted.

“Can’t even throw a fucking punch, hey? You’re father would be so ashamed of you. Now, Terry, he knew how to throw a fist.”

Mickey was getting real fucking pissed, real fucking fast. He was about to march around that bar and beat the fucking life out of Frank, but the crying of the baby made him stop.

“Frank, out!” Ian shouted and luckily Frank stumbled out of the bar and into the street, probably to look for another bar to try and start a fight in.

Mickey slammed the glass that was in his hand on the bar and sighed angrily. Ian tried to place his hand on his shoulder to reassure him, but he shook it off.

Wolf kept crying, loudly. Debbie rocked him and bounced him up and down, but nothing was working.

Mickey grabbed his jacket and hastily put it on. He walked around the bar and took the crying baby off Debbie and made his way to the door.

“Mickey,” Ian called out after him.

“Smoke break,” Mickey called back without turning around.

When he stood back outside, the kid stopped crying. He nestled his face into Mickey’s chest and Mickey kept his arms wrapped tightly around him, to keep him warm and to keep him from crying.

Mickey looked down the street where he could see Frank stumbling off into the distance. Piece of shit. He leant back against the wall of the Alibi, quietly humming as Wolf closed his eyes and slept.

He didn’t know how long he’d been out there for. His fingers and nose felt frozen. His breath came out as an icy cloud. He placed his fingers lightly on Wolf’s head to check if he was cold. Luckily, Wolf was warm and snuggled under the layers of blanket.

People started leaving the bar, and then Debbie and Ian came out last, locking the Alibi behind them.

“Let’s take you home, Debs,” Ian said and Mickey handed him the car keys.

Debbie sat in the back, whilst Mickey sat in the passenger seat, not wanting to disturb the sleeping baby. They sat in silence, apart from the quiet of a radio talk show that no one was really listening to.

Ian pulled up in front of the Gallagher house and didn’t drive off until he was sure Debbie had got safely inside.

“You OK, Mickey?” Ian quietly asked, glancing over at Mickey and the distant look on his face as he looked out of the iced window.

“I don’t know,” Mickey replied, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper.

“Frank’s an asshole,” Ian laughed, “a drunk, piece of shit asshole.”

Mickey nodded and went back to staring out of the window.

“Look, Mickey, this is going to be hard. But, it’s not forever. And it’s not going to be hard forever. I’m not going to leave you. We’re going to be great fake dads, until your brother comes back that is.”

Mickey laughed a little and smiled at his boyfriend. He felt reassured now. Hell yeah, they were going to be great sort-of-fake dads for Wolf. The kid hadn’t been seriously injured, exposed to drugs, or been used as barter for liquor. That was a sign they were doing better than both their dad’s, and both of them were still alive.

“You know, playing daddy looks good on you,” Ian smirked.

“Huh?”

“You look pretty good, a big smile, and you know how much I love them trousers.”

Mickey may or may not have purposely worn the trousers that were just a little finer fitting. And he knew what Ian meant about the smile, it was just really difficult not to smile at Wolfgang.

“You’ve worked so hard today, Mickey,” Ian praised as he rested a hand on his thigh, “how about I run you a bath tonight, I’ll change Wolf, put him to bed, whilst you relax.”

Mickey laughed a little and raised an eyebrow, “a bath? Fuck, I haven’t had a bath since… forever? Why ?”

“Gotta take care of you,” Ian looked at Mickey and they both smiled.

***

Mickey couldn’t believe he was actually about to have a bath. He’d been living here for years, had this tub for years, but he’d never considered it. Ian had ran it, hot, but the perfect kind of hot. He’d also squeezed an ample amount of shower gel in there to fill it with foamy bubbles.

Ian gave Mickey a quick kiss before he left to take care of Wolf. Mickey stripped his clothes and chucked them onto the floor. He carefully stepped into the bath and sat down. He took a deep breath, and relaxed.

Ian Gallagher, is the single most amazing human ever, Mickey thought. He made a mental note to tell Ian that. 

Right now, Ian was making them some dinner, looking after his son (even if he thought it was his brother’s son, it still mattered), and had just ran him a hot bath. Mickey smiled just thinking about it. Ian cared, Ian really cared. He was definitely getting laid tonight.

Mickey had been in the bath for a while, his mind wasn't busy overthinking anything. It was nice. Soon, Ian walked in, red hair messed up and a grin on his face.

“Little Wolf is out for the night now,” Ian said as he approached the bath and squatted next to Mickey. “He grabbed my hair, haha, wouldn't let go. I've put rice on to boil and chicken in the oven. He's sleeping in the living room, looks like Minerva is keeping an eye on him. I've also prepared some of the formula and baby food that was in the bag so don't worry. And -”

“Ian,” Mickey had to stop him talking, “Ian, you are the most amazing human being ever. I mean it. I love you.”

Ian smiled and leant forward, pressing their lips together. Mickey placed a wet hand on the back of his head, not caring that soapy suds fell onto his shirt.

“You're all wet,” Ian laughed as he pulled away.

“Go finish dinner, I'll be out in a minute,” Mickey laughed and flicked some water at Ian to encourage him to leave.

Mickey wasn't that hungry. He had picked on enough chips at the bar, dinner could wait. Now, he was going to thank Ian.

He dried himself with the towel and looked at his clothes. He pulled on his underwear and the trousers. He thought about going out in just that, but then spotted the tie, hanging from a hook on the back of the bathroom door. Perfect.

Mickey tied it loosely around his neck and checked himself out in the mirror. He took a deep breath. Ian was going to love this.

He left the bathroom with a smirk on the face and wandered over to the kitchen.

“Hey, I’m just dishing up so could -,” Ian turned around and his jaw dropped. “Oh, hello.”

“Hey,” Mickey innocently said, making his way over to him.

“Holy fuck,” Ian said under his breath as he admired his boyfriend’s body.

“You've taken such good care of me, Gallagher, now, I'm going to take good care of you,” Mickey slowly ran his tongue across his lips all whilst keeping eye contact with Ian.

“What about the food-”

“Bedroom. Now,” Mickey said, his voice low and sexy.

Ian followed Mickey quickly to the bedroom. He held Mickey against the wall, pushing their lips together, hungrily kissing with lips and tongue.

“I do love these pants,” Ian murmured as his hands slipped under them to grip Mickey's ass. “Fuck, you look good.”

Ian pulled away to admire Mickey again. Mickey's hand slowly went up to the knot of his tie and he gently pulled at it, undoing his tie. It came away easily and he dropped the tie onto the floor. That trick totally didn't take Mickey six minutes to learn in the bathroom mirror.

Ian was about to grab Mickey to bring them to the bed, but Mickey had other plans. He swapped their positions so Ian was now against the wall. He dropped to his knees with a dull thud, and smirked up at Ian.

Mickey slowly felt Ian's thighs and then placed a hand over the jeans covering his groin. He palmed it slightly and looked up at Ian.

“You really do like these pants, huh?” Mickey felt how hard Ian was already.

“You have nice legs and a nice ass, they, uh, accent them nicely.”

Mickey motioned for Ian to take of his shirt and as he did, he kissed his exposed hips and gently ran a finger across the waistline of the dark jeans.

He teased Ian slightly, pulling down the jeans so so slowly. Then stopped completely and stood up.

“Sorry,” Mickey started, “I forgot. This is my treat to you, so, you're in charge. I'll do whatever you want.”

Ian raised his brow and pulled Mickey flush against him to whisper in his ear, “whatever I want?”

“You ain't stickin’ no fuckin’ beads up my ass,” Mickey replied with a laugh. “But, pretty much whatever you want.”

Ian thought for a moment. “You've been pretty good today, too. So, this is going to be a treat for both of us.”

Ian licked his lips and slowly backed Mickey up to the bed. Pushing him down with a gentle nudge. He shuffled up on the bed as Ian climbed on top, kissing him for a moment before working his way onto his jaw and down his neck.

Mickey's breath hitched as Ian slowly ran his tongue across his chest and down his stomach.

“As much as I love these, they do have to go,” Ian frowned as he slowly undid the button and zipper.

Mickey lifted himself up to make them come off easier. Then Ian frowned at Mickey's underwear.

“These have to go as well,” Ian palmed Mickey's hardening erection through his underwear.

Ian swiftly removed them and looked up at Mickey.

“So, uh, what's this ‘whatever you want’ you gonna do?” Mickey asked, feeling both nerves and excitement.

“You'll like it, trust me,” Ian replied.

Mickey sees Ian like his lips and then move his head to kiss the inside of his thighs.

Mickey moans softly as Ian sucks the sensitive skin, almost certainly leaving marks. Ian glanced up at him and smirked. He held Mickey up a little to get a better angle before placing soft, quick kisses on his ass.

“What are you - oh, fuck,” Mickey sighed.

Ian’s tongue teased at his hole before he licked it flatly starting from his tailbone. He kissed it wetly, reveling in the small sighs Mickey let out. His tongue dashed across. Mickey wriggled a little, muttering something about ‘hurrying the fuck up and fuck me already’.

Ian was happy to give Mickey what he wanted. He’d worked hard today. He deserved it.

He sat up on his knees and gave Mickey a smug look. Mickey rolled his eyes and chucked the lube at him.

He grabbed Mickey’s hips and held him up, getting the perfect position to line himself up. He pushed in, slowly, but not stopping until he’d completely filled Mickey.

Mickey let out a loud groan and cursed as Ian started to slowly pull out and then thrust back in quickly.

“Shh, shh,” Ian hushed. “Don’t want to wake the baby up, do you?”

“No, I wouldn’t - mm - want that,” Mickey squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip, trying to concentrate on the feeling of Ian inside him, and on staying quiet.

“What do you want then?” Ian quietly asked.

“I want you to shut up and - fuck - me -” Mickey impatiently tried to take control but Ian had a strong grip on his hips.

Ian lowered himself down to kiss hungrily at Mickey’s lips, to keep their sounds quiet.

It wasn’t long until they both breathlessly reached an orgasm. Ian collapsed down next to Mickey, both of them panting breathlessly.

Mickey broke the silence with a small laugh as he ran his fingers through Ian’s messy red hair.

“I’m fuckin’ hungry now,” he murumered. “How ‘bout that chicken and rice you were making?”

“It’s probably cold now,” Ian beamed at him, “but it’s still a great idea.”

They cleaned themselves up quickly and both pulled on a pair of sweatpants. Mickey also picked a hoodie from the drawer.

“Is that my hoodie?” Ian raised an eyebrow at Mickey as he pulled the dark sweatshirt on.

“Mm, yeah,” Mickey smiled. “Whatcha gonna do about it?”

Ian placed his hands on Mickey’s hips. Mickey looked up to kiss Ian’s soft lips, a small, yet perfectly happy kiss.

The hoodie was too big for him. Ian was bigger and muscled so it made sense. But the hoodie smelt like him, it was just so comforting to wear.

They cozied up on the sofa and played the TV at a low volume. Mickey smiled a little as he saw Wolf happily sleeping in a pile of blankets in the bottom drawer.

Mickey yawned as he placed his empty bowl on the coffee table. He leant back on the sofa, resting his head on Ian’s chest.

“You did good today,” Mickey said, quietly. He always found it easier to talk about things like this after sex and when he didn’t have to make eye contact. “I, uh, I don’t know how long we’re gonna be stuck with Wolf, but, I’m glad you’re here. You’re fuckin’ amazing.”

“I’m always going to be here, Mickey. No matter what,” Ian ran his hand reassuringly up and down Mickey’s arm.

“OK…” Mickey sighed. “I have to tell you something.” Mickey thought maybe it would be OK if Ian knew Wolf was his son. But then again, what did it matter? Iggy would be back soon. Fuck.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

It wasn’t what he planned to say, but he sure as shit meant it.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Mickey woke up but didn't open his eyes. He couldn't remember falling asleep, but he was still on the sofa. He could feel Ian close behind him, his breath hot on the back of his neck and his arm tucked securely around him.

His eyes shot open and he jumped a little when he felt a little hand slap him in the face. Wolf was stood up, wobbling a little, and slapping his hands on Mickey's face, giggling as Mickey jumped.

“Heyo!” Wolf squealed.

“Hello,” Mickey yawned and laughed a little.

“Heyo!” Wolf repeated, slapping Mickey again.

“OK, OK, stop that.”

The kid had a big grin on his face as Mickey sat up and pulled him onto his lap, to bounce him gently.

Ian's light snoring had stopped and Mickey glanced over at him, catching him shutting his eyes quickly and pretending to be asleep.

“Nice try, sleepy face,” Mickey smirked and reached a hand out to poke his cheek.

“Mm, no, still asleep,” Ian chuckled, keeping his eyes tightly shut. “Everything huuurts, why did we sleep on the couch?”

“Because your tired ass fell asleep and I didn't have the energy to carry you to the bedroom.”

Ian groaned again as he sat up behind Mickey, kissing the back of his neck. He shuffled himself next to Mickey and rest his head on his shoulder, sticking his tongue out at Wolfgang.

“Heyo heyo!” Wolf pointed eagerly at Ian.

Ian smiled widely and said “hello” back.

“Fuck!” Wolf said, giggling madly.

“Oh, fuck,” Mickey gasped, and struggled to hide his laugh.

Ian was worse than Mickey at hiding his laugh, lifting a hand over his mouth didn't stop the giggling.

“Fuck! Fuck!” Wolf repeated.

“Jesus, Ian, we're terrible influences,” Mickey elbowed Ian to make him stop laughing.

“He's got the two most important words in the English language nailed down. I think we're great influences.”

“Well, at least we know he ain't mute or something. All he said yesterday was ‘oogah’ and then cried and slept, is that normal baby shit? Fuck.”

“Mickey, he's fine,” Ian put his arm around Mickey's shoulder to pull him into him. “There is, uh, one thing…”

“And what's that?”

“Hm,” Ian said, looking at the baby, thinking for a moment, “how's his dad?”

“What? Huh?” Mickey didn't understand.

“Your brother? Is he… nice? Like, does he like Wolf?”

“My brother’s an ass, truthfully, but I get the vibe he ain't too pleased with the kid. His girl’s pretty slutty, might not even be his kid for all we know. Ay?” Mickey laughed a little, nerves bubbing a little inside.

“Hm, and the kid’s mom? What she like?”

Mickey grimaced as he tried to recall her. “Ah, Maria? Mary? Whatever her fuckin’ name is. Now, she's a right shithead. I never liked her,” he shook his head. “Or her choice in men,” he added with a scoff.

“And what about Wolf? What'd you think about him?”

“I guess he's pretty fuckin’ awesome,” Mickey smiled at Wolf and his bright blue eyes that stared back. “What is this, twenty questions?”

“OK,” Ian said, he voice seeming oddly serious, making Mickey ask what was wrong.

Ian took Wolf off Mickey and lay him on the sofa in a space between them.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed or - well- you just gotta see this,” Ian said, “don't panic, it's probably nothing.”

Ian unbuttoned the tattered blue onesie little Wolf was wearing. He pulled his arms and legs out, leaving him in just his diaper.

“No…” Mickey barely whispered. “Fuck.”

Wolf was smiling and kicking his arms and legs. He let little giggles escape his tiny mouth. He was so happy. They never really thought that it was strange that the kid was so happy to be with these strangers after being separated from his mom and dad, but now it seemed clear.

His little body was little indeed. He was thirteen months old but was small enough to be mistaken for much younger. Mickey didn't know much about babies but he knew they were supposed to have chub, and Wolf’s chub probably wasn’t sufficient.

His body was painted with bruises. Deep reds and purples. Light yellows and greens. A gash on his lip that went down his neck and stopped at his collar, that Mickey had failed to notice, and it seemed like it probably needed stitches when it was fresh.

“I saw it when I was changing him yesterday, I just wasn't sure how to…” Ian shook his head. He'd seen the bruises yesterday, but now seeing them in a lighter room made them worse.

The kid's bright and cheerful smile and sounds were such a sad contrast to his broken body.

Mickey didn't say anything. He stared, glassy eyed, barely blinking. His eyes trailed across his son’s skin. Mickey knew what he felt like to feel abuse like that. It broke him a little at the thought of someone doing that to such a vulnerable baby.

Mickey's eyes wandered and stopped at one of his hands. He felt an anger mix with the sadness. How the fuck did he not notice? The kid was missing a fucking finger. A whole fucking finger! Mickey had said it before, but now he meant it more than ever. Iggy Milkovich is a fucking dead man.

“Fuck, look at his hand, fuckin’ fuckheads! Why the fuck did they - fuck - do this to- to - my…” Mickey's words ended up in a sad, angry bubbling mess as he aggressively rubbed the tears from his eyes.

“He's safe now. We've got him now,” Ian rubbed Mickey's shoulder. “He's not suffering that anymore, look at his big fuckin’ smile.”

Mickey sniffled a little and took his hands from his eyes to look at Wolf. He was still smiling. It cheered Mickey up a little.

“Look,” Ian said as he buttoned Wolf’s onesie back up, “don't do anything stupid. When your brother comes back, you can just refuse to give the baby back. If he tries to argue, we can report him to social services or something. Yeah?”

Mickey shook his head a little. “We can't keep the kid. We've got no room, not enough money. And, fuck, it's unfair on you. You didn't ask for a baby, and now it's my fault we're fuckin’ stuck with one.”

“You’re right. I didn't ask for this. But I love you, Mickey, I love you and all the shit in your life. We're gonna make this work, OK? We don't have to keep him forever. We'll see how it goes, and if it gets too much, I know some rich old gay dudes that would love to adopt someone as cute as Wolf,” Ian said, smiling at Mickey, trying to reassure and comfort him.

Mickey was too pissed off in the moment to really think about what Ian was saying and spat back at him, “I’m not giving this kid up to some old fags!”

“Okay, okay, you can give him to the foster system or keep him. He's got your blood, it's up to you. I'm always going to be here to support you, no matter your choices.”

“FUCK!” Mickey shouted, suddenly jumping from the sofa. “FUCK!” He kicked the coffee table hard, making it shift a good few feet.

The baby started crying at the sudden shouting. Ian stood up, too, leaving Wolf on the sofa as he cried, to calm Mickey and the whole situation down.

“Mickey,” Ian said, cautiously stepping towards him.

It was too much. Everything was background noise. Ian's gentle words. Wolf’s insistent crying. His own muttering of curses. All he could hear was anger, ringing in his eyes, making his head ache with a sharp pulse of pain.

He backed away as Ian walked forwards towards him. His head was spinning. He could barely see Ian, let alone concentrate on whatever he was saying.

He kept moving backwards, murmuring ‘no, no, no’ in between quick, panicked breaths. His back and head hit the wall.

Ian caught him.

He wrapped his arms so gently around Mickey, yet he was firm enough to hold him up and stop him from slipping away. Mickey pushed his face onto Ian’s chest and brought their bodies together.

Mickey's panicky breaths and the ringing in his ears calmed as he gripped onto Ian tightly. 

Everything began to focus again.

He became aware of the baby’ crying. He became aware of his own quiet sobbing into Ian. He became aware of the gentle words Ian was muttering to calm him.

“Shh, shh,” Ian soothed, “I've got you. I'm not going anywhere. Everything's going to be OK, just take some breaths. We got this.”

Mickey nodded and pulled away slightly. “Thank you,” he managed to say, before pushing back into Ian's embrace.

Mickey shook his head aggressively, annoyed at himself for getting like that. He pushed Ian back a little and mumbled something about going to the bathroom to wash his face with cold water.

He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror. He angrily splashed cold water on his face and rubbed his face with the towel until it hurt. His phone rang and vibrated in his pocket. Some number he didn’t have saved.

“Yo, Mickey?” the guy on the other end of the line asked.

“Depends who the fuck’s askin’ though,” he replied, not in the mood for someone trying to sell him shit.

“It’s Iggs. New phone.”

Mickey groaned and rolled his eyes,” Fuck you want?”

“Well -”

“Actually, I gotta few things I wanna say first,” Mickey interrupted. “Firstly, fuck you, dumpin’ your fuckin’ kid on me. We had a fuckin’ deal. Secondly, you think I wouldn’t notice the bruises, huh? The cuts? The fact he’s missing a whole fuckin’ finger? Care to explain that shit?”

 

“Yo, calm yourself-”

“Don’t tell me what to fuckin’ do!”

“Mick-”

“No. Shut the fuck up! You’re fuckin’ sick. I may have agreed to the deal, but that doesn’t give you the right to fuckin’ abuse him, yeah?”

“Mickey! Fucking listen!” Iggy raised his voice down the phone, clearly annoyed at Mickey’s persistent interruptions.

“What?” Mickey sighed and let him speak.

“That’s what I’m calling about. Me and Marcy split ages ago. I come down to see the kid and see she’s got this new dude, big guns, tats, shaved head, fucking weirdo. Then I see Wolfgang, and then I take Wolfgang. Then I panic. So I give him to you because then if she tryna take back her son, you at least have some legal right for custody or whatever.”

“Wait, you mean I’m fuckin’ stuck with the kid?”

“What? You don’t like him? To start, he is YOUR kid. You really want that kid living with Marcy and her new man, who let his big ass dog eat the fucking kids finger?”

Mickey rubbed his eyes in frustration. “Why can’t you take him?”

“Marcy’s completely fine with you taking him. Me, however, she said she’d call the cops and the West boys got people in jail waiting for me, so I can’t afford that right now. Look, he’s yours now. Do whatever you want with him, it’s all on you.”

“I can’t afford a fuckin’ baby right now.”

“Aw, I’m sure you and your boyfriend will manage. You saying you don’t love your own son?”

 

“Me and my - what? Boyfriend? Come on, I ain’t gay.”

“Yeah, sure.” Iggy scoffed. “Now back to you loving your own son, your own blood?”

“What? I don’t - I don’t know.”

“Just, don’t become our dad.”

They were both silent for a moment. The mentioning of their dad was always bitter. But, he was gone now. There was no fucking way Mickey would turn into his father.

“Fuck him,” Mickey said quietly. “Can you at least send me some money? Especially since you will probably end up in jail by the end of the week, hah.”

“OK, but it’s only to spent on Wolfgang. Fifty dollars?”

“Fifty? Yeah, sure, that’s gonna make a fuckin’ difference. Two hundred. And I won’t call the cops on Marcy, and then her boyfriend won’t come and fuckin’ deck you, hey?”

“Fine. I’ll transfer it now, I got time. See you.”

Mickey hung up. Now he had just another thing to hide from Ian. But, fuck, eventually he’ll catch on to the fact that Iggy was not coming back. Then what the fuck will happen?

All this secret keeping just made him feel like they were back at the start of the relationship. Where he felt sick and nervous all the time, constantly fearing that Ian would leave him and he’d be alone again. He wouldn’t be able to handle being alone again. Not after discovering what it’s like to be not alone.

He left the bathroom and walked back into the living room. He sat down next to Ian and Ian gave him one of his classic dopey smiles, that never failed to make Mickey smile back.

Mickey looked at Ian and his son. It had felt like Wolfgang had always been there. He fit so perfectly in their family. Ian, Wolf, the three cats, and himself, it kind of seemed perfect.

There was an odd excitement and happiness that Mickey didn’t expect. He expected he’d be a lot more angry, more pissed off, and just chuck the kid into the system. But the thought of anyone treating his son like that, it made him protective.

And, he’d be lying if he said that Wolf didn’t make him happy, the kind of happiness he’d only ever found in one person before. Now he had two people that gave him a warm feeling. A feeling that he was actually important in someone’s life. The feeling that if he just stopped existing, he’d be missed. It had taken him twenty one years to find that feeling. But now it was here. Home.

“Fiona texted saying she’s got a bag of Liam’s old stuff we can have. And we can go to the store after,” Ian said, leaning over to kiss Mickey’s cheek.

“Oh, yeah, Iggy’s sending some money to my bank right now.”

“Your brother? You spoke to him?”

“Mhm. The, uh, bruises and shit were from his girl’s new man, some asshole with a shaved head and some aggressive dog, I don’t fuckin’ know. He’s still hiding from people he pissed off so I don’t know when he’ll be back either,” Mickey shrugged.

“Wolf’s safe now,” Ian said softly, gently stroking a finger over Wolf’s cheek.

“He’s sending two hundred, so maybe we can buy him something cheap to sleep in. And some clothes because that onesie is beginning to stink.”

“Sounds like we got our day planned,” Ian smiled and placed Wolf into Mickey’s arms, before standing up from the sofa. “I’ll make us some breakfast.”

Ian picked up the empty bowls from the night before off the table. He also took some empty glasses. Wolf laughed at Ian as his balancing act went wrong and he dropped two glasses, luckily they just rolled rather than smashing.

Wolf began to blubber and fuss as Ian walked away. He reached his little arms out, his fingers grabbing at the air.

“It’s alright little Wolf. I’m just going to make you and momma some breakfast.”

“Woah, woah!” Mickey’s eyebrows shot up. “Why am I the mom?”

“Hm, I suppose you’re right. I’d be game for calling you daddy,” Ian smirked at Mickey’s suddenly warm, pink flushed face. He winked and turned into the kitchen, grinning at him over the half-wall gap that separated them.

Mickey sulked and looked at Wolf, who was still reaching out for Ian. 

“Hey, Wolfie,” Wolf’s head turned to look at Mickey, his sad eyes ready to start crying any minute. Mickey did the only thing he could think of, and stuck out his tongue, pulling a face and earning him a smile.

Wolf then reached out to grab Mickey’s hoodie and then his hair. Mickey gently pried his tiny fingers out of his hair. He clasped his hand around one of Mickey’s fingers and tried to shake it the best he could.

Mickey looked at the three fingers and a thumb that held onto his finger. He frowned, but then smiled again when he looked up at Wolf. He was just a ray of sunshine. His happiness radiated off him, making it impossible not to be happy with him.

Ian made the two bowls of cereal and had a small bowl of warm porridge for Wolf. He stood still for a while, admiring his boyfriend and his massive grin. He pulled faces and made silly sounds at Wolf. Fuck, did fatherhood look good on him.

“I know you’re standing there like a creep watchin’,” Mickey said without looking up. “Come and join us, Red.”

“You caught me,” Ian snickered and ambled over to sit next to them.

He handed Mickey the porridge and the little teaspoon. He put Mickey’s cereal on the table for him to get once Wolf had eaten all of his food first. Mickey held the bowl up and looked at Ian, confused.

Ian rolled his eyes. “You put the spoon in the porridge, then into the baby’s mouth.”

“I -” Mickey stammered, but shook his head.

“It’s not rocket science, Mick.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Mickey replied.

He shuffled a little to get in a better position to feed Wolf. He dipped the spoon into the porridge, getting a good amount onto it. He opened his little mouth eagerly and ate all the food from the spoon. Mickey did this a few more times, grimacing a little at the mush, unable to comprehend how Wolf seemed so pleased to be eating it.

“The fuck is this stuff?” Mickey asked, eyeing the beige mush.

“Porridge,” Ian laughed at Mickey’s confused look.

“Porridge? Hm.”  
Ian stifled a laugh as Mickey continued to hold the spoon and suspiciously look at the food. He hovered it just out of Wolf’s reach. He was concentrating on the food too much to notice Wolf’s attempts to grab the spoon.

“This taste good, huh?” he asked Wolf as he finally let him eat the spoonful.

Wolf seemed to be enjoying the food. Even if he’d managed to get half of it around his mouth, cheeks, and nose. Still, Mickey had to know. He dipped the spoon in the bowl and closed his eyes, shoving the spoon in his mouth and trying the mush.

“It’s just porridge?” Ian laughed as Mickey screwed up his face, clicking his tongue to try and taste the food better.

“How the fuck do you eat this and still be smilin’?” he gave Wolf the final spoon, clearing the bowl.

“Language,” Ian tutted.

“It’s too fuckin’ late for that,” Mickey mumbled, knowing it would be useless to attempt to stop his overuse of the word ‘fuck’.

Ian took the empty bowl from Mickey, swapping it for his cereal. He took Wolf from him to change him and to get dressed himself. Mickey finished his cereal and soon joined Ian in the bedroom to also get dressed.

Wolf sat up in the middle of the pillows. His bright eyes darted across the room as Ian and Mickey threw on some clothes.

Mickey fiddled with his buttons whilst Ian leant against the wall, smiling at him. Mickey would never admit it but, he always made a bit of an effort whenever he had to see Ian’s family.

Mickey raised his eyebrows at Ian. “You’re starin’ again.”

“Mhm, it’s hard not to,” Ian continued his staring, looking Mickey up and down several times before settling on the other man’s’ eyes.

“Is this eye-fucking? You tryna eye-fuck me now?” Mickey laughed but didn’t break the eye contact.

“Really, I can’t help it. You have the most beautiful, fuckable eyes,” Ian smiled, too.

“What was that you were sayin’ about watching my language?”

***

Fiona opened the door with a smile, ushering them in from the cold.

“Oh, he is so cute!” Fiona grinned at Wolf, who was lying in Mickey’s arms, happily watching nothing in particular. “Looks just like you.”

Mickey was about to correct her and say that it was his brother’s son, but she had already moved the conversation on. And Ian didn’t seem to notice.

“I’ve filled the bag with clothes and some toys Liam doesn’t really care about anymore. And those diapers which are too small from him, but they look perfect for your kid,” Fiona ranted as she handed a stuffed plastic bag to Ian as well as a packet of diapers.

“Thanks, Fi,” Ian said as he placed the things by the door. “Lip in?”

“Upstairs. Mandy is probably there as well so, knock first.”

“Only be a minute, Mick,” Ian said as he stepped upstairs before Mickey could protest.

“How old is he?” Fiona asked with a smile.

“Uh, thirteen months, almost.”

“Oh.”

Mickey looked up at her strangely disappointed face. “Something wrong?”

“He’s just quite small,” she shrugged. “Must’ve got it from you.”

“I - I am not -” Mickey stammered, a little sensitive about his height.

“But he is just as cute as you!”

“He’s actually -” Mickey started but he was too exhausted to try and explain anything so instead smiled and muttered thanks.

“So…How did he get here? Like, you’re gay, so was this like your rebellious straight phase? Ha ha.”

Mickey blinked at her, always a little taken back when people were just so comfortable with his sexuality. “Booze - and a fuckin’ lot of it - and a very - touchy - girl.”

Mickey stood awkwardly, holding Wolf a little awkwardly as well as he wriggled to explore the scene. Fiona laughed a little at Mickey’s struggling and reached out to pick Wolf out of his arms.

Fiona bounced him a little and cooed at him before she noticed the missing finger situation and the trailing cut on his lip.

“Was this you… Or?” Fiona frowned.

“Oh, no. My brother’s ex-girlfriend’s new boyfriend’s dog. Messy story,” Mickey shrugged and took Wolf back.

“So, what’s the situation?”

“Uh, we’re gonna be stuck with him for a while. I don’t really know what’s going on, to be honest. But, I’m fuckin’ trying my best.”

“Aw,” Fiona placed her hand on Mickey’s arm. He flinched a little, not used to any affection from anyone besides Ian. “Ian’s always been good with the kids, so you have him.”

Mickey nodded and was grateful as that was the moment Ian came bouncing back down the stairs.

“Store now, let’s go,” Ian smiled and waved to Fiona before he picked the bags from by the door and they left the Gallagher house.

***

They had been at the store for an hour, and their cart decently full. Wolf sat in the little seat and slapped his hands on Ian’s - that were wrapped firmly around the cart to push it. They had a cheap, easy to build crib, several more blankets and a pillow to pad it out, some more diapers, healthy foods for Wolf to eat, and milk, some “human food” - as Mickey had called it, a bottle of vodka, and some smokes.

They payed and packed the trunk with their collection, filling the trunk significantly. They both seemed quite pleased, albeit a little tired from their trip.

Ian went to go into the car, but Mickey leant against the door and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. He was about to light one in his mouth when he looked up at Ian’s disapproving frown.

“Fuck, what?” Mickey questioned Ian’s face.

“Couldn’t you have waited until we got home?” Ian rolled his eyes.

“Uh, why?”

“I’m tired, and Wolf is, too,” Ian gestured to Wolf, who had fallen asleep in Mickey’s arms.

“So? I’ll only be five minutes.”

“You could do it in the car, on the way.”

“I wanna smoke now, you got a fuckin’ problem?” Mickey didn’t see why Ian was getting so pissed about this. It was just a fucking smoke, that he deserved, it had been a long, tiring day and it was still only the afternoon.

“You could wait. You know, do it away from Wolf? Shit’s unhealthy.”

“He’s been exposed to worse,” Mickey rolled his eyes. “Fuck’s so wrong with me needing a smoke right now?”

“Jesus, Mickey, I just wanna get home,” Ian groaned.

“Yo, why the fuck you bein’ so precious all of sudden?” Mickey stood up straighter.

“Oh! I’m being fucking precious about this? ME?”

“Yes. You fuckin’ are.”

“Oh, come the fuck on. You’re the one getting so pissy and angry because I asked if you’d wait like twenty minutes to have a smoke.”

“I’m not fuckin’ pissy, bitch,” Mickey was already too tired and stressed for this, and didn’t care about the language rolling off his tongue.

“Mhm, sure,” Ian replied calmly and shrugged, only pissing Mickey off even more.

Wolf began to fuss a little and Mickey sighed angrily. He pushed Wolf into Ian’s chest and he took the kid. Then he handed Ian his car keys and stepped back.

“I’ll walk home,” Mickey said turning around and beginning to stride away.

“Fine!” Ian shouted at him. “Walk away you precious fuck!”

Mickey just raised his middle finger, not turning around to see if Ian saw or not. He turned out of the car park and bitterly kicked an empty can laying on the floor. He took a cigarette from the packet and shoved it into his mouth, lighting it quickly and tried to relax as he smoked.

As he was walking, he did think that their little outburst was a bit stupid. He put it down to the stress and the fact that they were both tired from walking around the store for ages.

 

Their fights were just short-lived outbursts. It’d probably be fine by the time he got home. He was still feeling a little hot, but then again, the thought of make up sex calmed him a little.

He finished his first smoke and then moved onto another, flicking the end of the first one onto the sidewalk. It was cold and he was pisssed off that he still felt pissed off and that he’d decided to walk. The walk to his apartment block was at least forty fucking five minutes, fuck.

Soon, he had smoked whatever was left in the pack. The cold winds on his face had managed to calm him at least a little. But he was still had some anger in him as he approached the apartment block.

He walked into the apartment and closed the door a little louder than he needed to. Ian didn’t look up from the crib he’d set up next to the sofa. Mickey stood there for a minute, but Ian continued to watch Wolf sleep.

“Aight then,” Mickey grumbled.

“I had to take four trips from here to the car to empty the trunk - whilst holding a baby. No thanks to you,” Ian finally spoke.

“Oh, look, you speak!” Mickey sarcastically said as he sauntered off to the kitchen.

“Keep your voice down.”

“I’ll talk as loud as I fuckin’ want,” Mickey took the bottle of vodka and leaned against the doorframe.

“FINE!” Ian stood up straight. “Talk as loud as you want. Then when he wakes up, you can try and put him back to sleep.”

“And what if I don’t bother trying to put him back to sleep? Thought this thing was a joint responsibility.”

“Joint responsibility? All you’ve done is feed him some fucking porridge. Do you even know how to change a diaper? This kid’s got your blood so why don’t you put some fucking effort in to taking care of him?”

“I’ve been helping, but since you seem to be the ‘master’ of it, I just been letting you do it,” Mickey rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t ask for this,” Ian took a step towards Mickey, taking advantage of his height to try and make himself look big.

Mickey tried not to cower under him, but he was suddenly feeling so small and helpless at Ian’s words. “Didn’t ask for what?” Mickey said, his voice breaking a little.

“The baby. When I got with you, you didn’t have a baby. And now, you have a baby. That’s a huge fucking responsibility, and it’d help if you didn’t project your anger onto me. You’re lucky I stayed. Anyone else would’ve left your ass.”

Mickey Milkovich did not fucking cry. At least not in front of anyone.

He shoved past Ian and headed towards the bedroom.

“You can have the fuckin’ sofa,” he snapped. “Enjoy.”

He glared at Ian before slamming the door.

Mickey chucked himself onto the bed, shoving his face into the pillow to muffle the stinging of tears in his eyes and the pathetic crying sounds he made.

Ian was right. Anyone else would have left him. But Ian hadn’t left. Mickey knew that had to mean something but right now, he was too upset and angry to think about anything nice.

That whole exchange hurt more than the time Ian had slapped him. It hurt more than anything Conor had done to him. It hurt more than anything Terry had said. Fuck the lot of them.

Mickey unscrewed the cap of the vodka and swallowed several gulps, wincing at the burn.

He was fucking exhausted and tired of fucking everything. He lay down and shut his eyes.

*

There was a soft knock at the door. Mickey stirred and sat up, feeling slightly groggy from his rest. He’d been asleep a while, and it was now dark outside.

There was another knock before the door opened. Ian walked into the room and placed a plate of food and a fork on the bed. He looked like he was about to say something, his eyes watching the ground.

But he just walked out and quietly closed the door.

Mickey’s stomach made a loud gurgle sound and he reached for the food. Mickey was in the middle of eating the food when Ian walked back in. He walked around the side of the bed and took his pillow before heading back towards the door. Ian turned around and looked at Mickey again.

“Mick-” he started but then his mouth stayed open, no words coming out, just a stuttering sound as he tried to think of what to say.

Ian shook his head after his failed attempt to find words. He turned abruptly and left the bedroom.


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, just wanna let you know I'm changing the title to 'i'll love you 'till my breathing stops' when I upload chapter twenty one. I have a mini Lorde obsession right now and the title at the moment doesn't make any sense.. oops. Also want to thank everyone for their comments and kudos and reads and whatever! You're all awesome and I love you thanks! This is my first ever fanfiction so.. hope I'm doing good. Canon never treated our sweet pure babies right, so, someone had to.

The next day was hard. The second day was harder. By the time it got to the third day, it was just frustrating. Their usual arguments and fights would barely last a day, or even an hour before they were back on each other, but this had lasted three already.

It was lonely.

Before Ian, it was just Mickey. He would sit alone and drink to dull the feelings of wanting to fucking die. Now that Ian was here, Wolfgang was here, the three cats were here, Mickey knew what it felt like to not be lonely.

Maybe it was his fault. Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten so used to the affection. Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten used to kissing and fucking whenever. Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten used to feeling loved.

Now it just felt like he was alone again.

Ian slept on the sofa - Mickey in the bed - and the only interaction they had is when they passed the other person Wolf. They even avoided each other when at work. Standing at the opposite ends of the bar, occasionally glaring at the other for a moment.

It was so frustrating. It probably would have been best if they screamed and shouted their frustrations at each other. But instead, it was silent glares and the occasional scoff at the other person.

Mickey leant back a little on the bar and watched Ian serve a customer. Mickey knew the guy, sort of. He had stalked him on Facebook a few weeks ago after Ian said he was one of his exes. Ian clearly knew Mickey was watching. He laughed at whatever the guy was saying, very obviously flirting to annoy him.

Mickey wasn't purposely listening to their conversation, but he was actually.

“I was talking to Lip recently, he says your pretty settled. Didn’t know you did boyfriends?” he winked at Ian, making Mickey grit his teeth, silently daring him to pursue his flirting.

“Yeah, yeah, didn’t think it was my thing either,” Ian said and shrugged.

“Well, I’m always here if it stops being your thing.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Mickey wanted to barge right in there and stop the conversation there, show that fucker that Ian’s not going to change his mind. But, that little insecure part of Mickey kept back. Everyone seemed to leave him, why not Ian?

“Lip’s been saying you got troubles with your new man? Mikey, Nicky, whatever his name is?” the guy asked Ian, probably unaware that his ‘man’ was standing a few feet besides him.

“Oh yeah, he is being a bit of bitch,” Ian loudly replied.

“Oo, drama. What's up?”

“We've got stuck with his brother's baby, and he's just too easily pissed off. It’s probably stress but, fucking hell, all he does is mope and he’s being super secretive about fuck knows what. Man needs some chill pills.”

The guy laughed loudly and placed a hand on Ian's arm. Mickey gritted his teeth as he stared at this scene, knowing that Ian was probably loving to piss him off.

“You know,” the guy said, “you can just leave him. You ain't married to him. Like, if he had the kid before you hooked up, would you still have got in a relationship with him?”

Mickey glare softened a little with a slight sadness. He waited for Ian's response. It was hurting to listen.

“Honestly,” Ian started, “I like the kid. But if it meant he was always going to be such precious bitch about it, then yeah. I probably would've ran far away from that mess.”

What the fuck was Ian saying. Mickey jaw clenched and his blue eyes were red with anger and the beginnings of tears.

Mickey had been nothing but good with Wolf around. He'd been happy, Ian had been happy. Sure, he had a little moment where it got to much at once and he broke down a little, but what the fuck?

It’s not like Mickey was holding him hostage. Ian could leave whenever the fuck he wanted. Ian had told him over and over that he wasn’t going to leave yet, hearing all of this, maybe he was lying.

Mickey knew that Ian was still pissed and holding a grudge about - whatever it was, neither of them really remembered. But, Ian surely knew by now that Mickey was riddled with fear of abandonment. He was really pushing his fucking buttons.

“Yo,” Kev appeared next to Mickey’s side, waking him up from his little trance whilst glaring at Ian’s back.

“What the fuck!” Mickey jumped a little. “What?”

 

“You OK?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“What happened between you two?”

“None of your fuckin’ business is what happened,” Mickey glanced back at Ian, who had stopped chatting to that guy and was now clearly listening to what Kev and he had to say.

“Come on, I gotta look after my employees,” Kev looked between the two of them, waiting for an explanation.

Ian let out a loud sigh. “Maybe your employees would be better looked after if a certain one employee would just get - the - fuck - over - it.”

“Get the fuck over it? I don’t even know what the fuck there is to get over!” Mickey retorted.

“Neither do I! I don’t know what the fuck it was I did, but all you do is mope around, pissed off. And when I try to talk and figure shit out, you just shout or punch shit.”

“When the fuck did you try and fuckin’ talk shit out? The last fuckin’ thing you said was something about leaving me, three, four fuckin’ days ago.”

 

Ian took a big stride towards him. He placed the glass he was cleaning on the bar and sized up Mickey.

“You wanna talk, yeah? We can talk right fucking now,” Ian sneered.

Kev looked a little awkward, but figured he had to stop before his two employees beat the shit out of each other. “Hey! Hey! Calm down.”

Ian and Mickey both let out frustrated sighs.

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Maybe your employees would be better looked after if a certain employee thought about what the fuck he said - before he said it.”

Ian looked ready to tell him to go fuck himself, but Ian knew Mickey well enough to look at his face and know when he was hurt. And fuck, he looked so hurt.

They finished work without talking to each other again. 

Mickey waited in the car whilst Ian would go inside the Gallagher house to get Wolf. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the quiet sound of soft rock coming from the radio.

Ian closed the car door and strolled towards the house. He needed the cold air and he needed a smoke, so he sat down on the steps before going in.

He glanced up at Mickey, but he was too involved in the music to probably care he'd take a little a longer. Plus, he probably wanted to spend as little time with him as possible.

Ian knew he had been a complete asshole at the bar. He knew how to push his buttons, he knew how to really piss him off. But, he regretted it so much now.

He was stressed and exhausted with the constant tension over something he wasn't entirely sure about. He knew he had to apologise at some point. But it was best if both of them were a little less angry first.

He finished his smoke and walked into the house.

Debbie stood up from the couch, holding Wolfgang around her hip as he giggled and played with her hair.

“Thanks so much, Debs, you're awesome,” Ian smiled and took Wolf of her.

She had a serious look on her face, if not a more angry look.

“Uh, what?” Ian questioned her.

“Mickey said you're a fucking asshole who needs to get his shit together and apologise for being the world’s biggest piece of shit,” Debbie bluntly said. “His exact words, not mine.”

“I - Uh. Mickey said that to you?”

“Yeah, you're a prick. He's so nice and he's trying so hard, a baby puts a lot of pressure on relationships and you're not helping.”

Ian was a little taken aback from her maturity and the fact that she was right.

“When did he tell you all this?”

“When he came to collect his son yesterday and then he got really upset because of you being you.”

“It's his brother's kid,” Ian shrugged.

“No it's not,” Debbie said, before realising what she had just said.

Mickey had confided in her that it was his son. He had failed to mention that Ian wasn't aware of this fact.

“He's Mickey's son. Wolfgang Ivan Milkovich. Adorable.”

“He… said it was… Fuck. Why didn't he tell me?” Ian didn't know if he was angry that Mickey was still trying to keep secrets, or upset that he didn't trust him enough to tell him, or sad that Mickey struggled with the fear of abandonment.

“Oh, I'm sorry. Maybe it was because you were being an asshole.”

“Goodbye, Debbie,” Ian said, not wanting to stay and get called an asshole any longer.

Ian got in the car and sat Wolf down on his lap as Mickey began to drive.

Ian looked at Mickey for a moment and then back at Wolf and then back at Mickey. He didn't know how to feel.

When they got home, Mickey was already making his way to the bedroom to shut himself away like he'd done the past few days. But Ian knew he had to confront him eventually.

“Wait,” he called out to him.

He didn't stop at first, but once he had gotten to the bedroom door, he sighed, and turned around.

Ian placed Wolf down in his crib and stood back up straight, looking Mickey right in the eyes.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Ian said.

“Why didn't I tell you - what?”

“About Wolf.”

Mickey's defence fell a little and he took a small step back, but still he tried to pretend he didn't know what he was talking about.

“What about Wolf?”

“Do you still not trust me? After we've seen how you act when you're keeping secrets?” Ian's voice was too loud for Mickey.

“No - it's not that,” he said, looking down on the floor.

“Then what is it? If you really cared about us, you'd actually talk.”

Mickey had had enough of today. So frankly, he didn't care about getting mad.

“Care about us?” Mickey scoffed. “I really fucking care about us. Us! Me, you, Wolf, our cats. I fuckin’ care so much, Ian. I - I was scared you'd leave if I told you about Wolf. I don't think I'd handle being alone again. Happy now?”

“Mick, I’ve told you over and over that I'm not leaving you.”

“Really? Because you were perfectly content at the bar, flirting with that - that fag saying you would have left me if the baby was mine? And the other day you were sayin’ I was lucky you stayed, anyone else would've left me? Remember that?”

It was at this point that Wolf started crying. Fucking brilliant.

“I didn't mean all that - I was just pissed off and it's exhausting. I didn't mean it, I swear,” Ian frowned, but kept his voice loud enough to be heard over Wolfgang’s crying.

“You still fuckin’ said it and it still fuckin’ hurt me! My whole fuckin’ life has been filled with being abandoned by everyone. Or bein’ treated so badly, you want them to abandon you. You get that? You gotta watch what you fuckin’ say, because I don't know if you mean it or not.”

“Mickey, I'm not going to leave. I love you.”

“Don't,” Mickey said with a tremble in his voice.

“Mick-”

“Just leave, if that’s what you want so bad,” Mickey met his eyes with an aggressive but sad stare.

“I don’t want to leave; I want you!”

“Leave. I can’t fuckin’ deal with this right now.”

Ian thought about it for a second. He figured it was probably best. They were both tired from the long day, it would be easier to talk in the morning.

“I’ll come back in the morning, we can figure shit out then, yeah?” Ian said. “I love you, Mickey.”

Mickey didn't say anything back. He watched him leave.

When the door closed, he sighed a little and noticed Ian had left his jacket. It was fucking freezing out there. He would have chased him to give him his jacket but he had a crying baby to deal with, and he was in a mood, and the Gallagher house wasn't too far.

Mickey picked the jacket up and smelt the aftershave Ian always sprayed before work. He missed being close enough to smell him.

He laid the jacket on the back of the sofa and turned his attention to Wolf’s loud crying.

“Shh, shh, little Wolf,” Mickey murmured as he rocked his son in his arms.

It had probably been tough for Wolf as well. Ian and Mickey hadn't been all smiles and laughter recently.

“Shush your cute little face, Wolf,” Mickey smiled as Wolf’s crying became small whimpers. “Shh, shh, Dada’s got you.”

It felt so right to say it. Ian knew about it now, so fuck it.

“Dada’s here, little Wolf,” he murmured again as Wolf snuggled his face into his chest.

***

It was four in the morning when Mickey was woken up by a body basically collapsing onto the space on the bed next to him.

Mickey jumped, ready to beat the fucking crap out of the intruder. But the redheaded intruder slurred an apology and fell asleep.

“Fuck,” Mickey sighed.

Ian smelt like he had just bathed in beer. Clearly he took a wrong turn on the way to the Gallagher house and ended up in some bar.

He reached a hand out to touch Ian’s arm and shook his head. He was freezing. He stroked his hand down his goosebumped skin and then tangled his fingers in Ian’s close-to-freezing ones.

Mickey left the bed and walked around to Ian’s side. He pulled the duvet from underneath him and then placed it over him. He also got the big throw blanket from the couch and lay that over him as well. He tucked the duvet up to his neck and he couldn’t help but kiss his cold forehead. He had missed affection.

Mickey climbed under the duvet next to him. He lay about a foot away from him for a moment. He took a deep breath and chose to get over everything. Ian was just pissed off and they were both stressed. 

Ian loved him. He said it all the time so it had to mean something. Mickey loved him, too. It was so tough on both of them being like this, it was just so much easier and so much nicer to be in love.

He cuddled himself close to Ian, wrapping an arm around his chill body and leant up to kiss his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” Mickey mumbled at the sleeping redhead. “I love you.”

***

The next morning - as Mickey had predicted - Ian was sick. His pale face was paler. He had dark circles under his eyes (from both being sick and from the drinking). He coughed and sneezed and moaned about his headache.

“Miiiickey,” Ian groaned as Mickey left the bed.

“I’m just g-”

“No! I am so sorry about everything. I’m an asshole and you are amazing and I fucking love you.”

Mickey let out a sigh and sat down at the end of the bed. “I love you, too. It’s just been a difficult few days, ay? Friends?”

“Friends?” Ian said with a small smile and an eye wiggle. “Friends that fuck each other?”

Mickey smiled a little too and shook his head. “We ain’t fuckin’ until you stop snottin’ everywhere, and stop looking like a fuckin’ alien, although that’s pretty normal for you.”

“I am perfectly well!” Ian protested. “And I am not - a-a-choo! I am not snotting everywhere!”

“You sure ‘bout that?” Mickey handed him a tissue and felt his forehead. “Well, Doctor Mickey is gonna prescribe you some staying in bed and getting your ass waited on by me.”

“Nooo,” Ian pathetically said. “You can’t look after me AND Wolf.”

“I’ll manage,” Mickey smiled. “I’m gonna go wake the kid up, change and feed him and sit him in front of the TV with cartoons, then I’ll come play doctor again.”

“I love you, mm, I can’t believe I managed to not touch you for like four days, no…” Ian ended with a little coughing fit.

“That’s because you’re a fuckin’ asshole,” Mickey grinned and stood up from the bed to go wake up Wolf.

After changing and feeding Wolf, Mickey pulled the crib in front of the TV and put him back in there. Watson had jumped in and lay peacefully asleep as Wolfgang ran his tiny fingers through his dark fur.

He flicked through the channels to find the baby shows but stopped at Hell’s Kitchen. A rerun, but still, Mickey couldn’t help but watch ten minutes of Gordon Ramsey flip out over a completely ruined, overdone steak.

Gordon was swearing and cursing like it was going out of fashion. Mickey considered this probably wasn't the best thing for Wolf. But Wolf’s attention was on the cat, so it was probably fine.

“Mickeeyyyy!” A raspy voice called from the bedroom.

“Comin’” Mickey called back as he left the sofa, taking the bowl of soup he had made for Ian.

“Miiiiiickeeeeeyyyyyy,” Ian repeated again as he walked into the bedroom.

“Aight, aight! I’m here. Got you some soup.”

“Not hungry,” Ian shook his head.

“You gotta eat. You’re looking paler than me,” Mickey joked, earning him a little laugh from Ian’s sick face.

“Missed you,” Ian sighed happily and sat up in bed, pulling the blankets with him.

Mickey sat next to him and placed the soup in his lap.

“Nooo, you got to feed it to me, Doctor,” Ian looked at him hopefully.

“Just like I had to feed the one year old? Your arms still work.”

“No, my arms are too weak.”

Mickey sighed a little but took the bowl of him. “If you’re always going to be like this when your sick, then ‘in sickness and health can kiss my ass’.”

Ian smiled a little and opened his mouth for the warm soup. “Wedding vows?”

“Huh?” Mickey looked a little embarrassed, clearly not meaning to say that out loud.

“Nothing,” Ian smirked and opened his mouth again.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought. I’m gonna text Debbie and ask if she can come over and look after little Wolf whilst I’m at work and to just make sure you don’t die.”

“I have to go to work though. We both know I make way more tips than you.”

“That’s because you flirt with everyone.”

“But it’s for money, so, worth it. Plus, it’s not flirting it’s - achoo! It’s just being polite.”

“Yeah, sure. You saying I ain’t polite?” Mickey raised his brow.

“Yes, I am,” Ian laughed a little in his giddy yet pathetically sick way.

“Now you need to get some more sleep,” Mickey stood up and took the empty bowl.

“Wait! Give me a kiss, please?” Ian asked with big sad eyes.

“I don’t wanna get sick as well, sorry,” Mickey frowned. Fuck. It had been way too long since their lips had matched.

“Please?”

Mickey walked over and ruffled his fingers through Ian’s hair. He leaned in and kissed the top of his head. Ian sighed a little angrily because he didn’t get the kiss he wanted, but then again, he didn’t want Mickey to get sick either.

Wolf was crying again and Mickey sighed, closing the bedroom door so it wouldn’t wake Ian up.

He picked Wolf up and bounced him a little. His crying was stopping but he was still fusing, his hands trying to grip and pull Mickey’s hair, his little legs kicking.

“What’s up little Wolf?” Mickey asked, sitting them both down on the sofa.

“Eena,” the kid said.

“Eena?” Mickey smiled at Wolf and ruffled his short, dark hair.

“Eena! Eena!” Wolf started bubbering and crying again.

“You tryna say Ian? Ian’s sick so you can’t see him,” Mickey frowned at Wolf.

He started crying again and Mickey put him on his lap to cuddle and try and calm him down.

“You’re stuck with Dada until Ian’s better, OK?” Mickey tried to negotiate with Wolf, but he was having none of it, only fussing more.

His crying calmed a little and he was suddenly pointing behind Mickey, crying out, “Eena!”

Mickey turned around and shook his head at Ian. He was stood in the doorway, wrapped in the sheets and blankets.

“You’re supposed to be in bed,” Mickey tutted.

“But then I would’ve missed this adorable scene,” Ian said.

“Fuck off,” Mickey said quietly and laughed a little, trying to console Wolf as he tried to climb over the sofa and get to Ian - or rather, Eena.

“So sorry, Doctor Mickey,” Ian gave him a cheeky grin at the nickname. “Can’t I come give him a hug?”

“I’m not dealing with two sick babies,” Mickey said as he stood up from the sofa and carried Wolf to Ian, but still kept him at a distance so they couldn’t touch.

“Sorry, Wolf, your - Dada - is keeping us apart,” Ian smirked.

“You heard that?” he suddenly looked quite embarrassed.

“Did I ever mention fatherhood looked hot on you?” Ian winked at him.

Mickey smiled again and checked Ian out, looking up and down a couple of times. “Could say the same about you, except, not when you look like death. Now back to bed! Debbie’s gonna be over soon.”

“Love you, Dada,” Ian chuckled.

“Nope, only little Wolf can call me that.”

“Fine. Love you, Daddy,” Ian grinned widely, coughing a little after.

“Ian,” Mickey warned.

“Love you, Mick!”

“Love you, too, Eena,” Mickey smiled before sending Ian back to bed.

***

Mickey opened the door and smiled at Debbie and greeted her as his “favourite Gallagher.”

“Ian stop being an ass?” she asked as she sat on the sofa, pulling a giggling Wolf onto her lap.

“Yeah, yeah, now he’s just a sick ass.”

“I bought a bunch of veggies in my backpack. Just mash them and put them in a pot of boiling water and boom! Miracle soup.”

“Thanks,” Mickey said and took her bag to the kitchen, emptying the contents on the counter. “You want some as well?” he looked over the counter to Debbie.

“No way, it’s not fit for human consumption, to much green,” she laughed and Mickey agreed with her dislike of vegetables. “You got any real food?”

“You wanna order pizza to shove it in Ian’s face that we get real food?” Mickey gave a sly smile, but he wasn’t going to be that mean, he’d save him slice like a good boyfriend.

“Yes!” Debbie’s grinned.

“Order it now, get what you want,” Mickey said as he started chopping vegetables and plopping them into the pot.

Mickey soon had everything bubbling away in the pot and joined Debbie and Wolf on the sofa. Wolf slept contently across Debbie’s lap and rested his head on the arm of the sofa. Debbie also had a cat curled up next to her to stroke.

When the pizza arrived, Mickey payed and placed it on the coffee table, grabbing a couple of plates for themselves.

Wolf had crawled in between them and was happily watching Gordon Ramsey tell the red team to ‘fuck off out of here you absolute fucking fuck ups!’.

“Fuck!” Wolf giggled at the TV.

Debbie gasped a little and Mickey just shrugged, accepting that this kid was a Milkovich and ‘fuck’ was a staple word in the Milkovich vocabulary.

Wolf’s attention soon turned to the pizza that his dad and Debbie were eating, but not him. He reached out for Mickey’s plate but Mickey pulled it away.

“No, no, this is Dada’s food,” he said.

Wolf started to do that little whimper before he started crying so Mickey gave in, ripping a small piece of the bread, cheese, and tomato off and giving it to him.

Wolf squished it in his hand before clumsily pushing it into his mouth. He quickly finished his small bit and shoved his tomato smothered hand back at Mickey, saying something in baby language.

“Good to see you like pizza, it’s an important trait,” Mickey said matter-of-factly as he ripped the rest of his slice into small bits and moved the plate so Wolf could eat it at his own pace.

“Fiona was saying that you thought you weren’t good at this,” Debbie looked up at Mickey, “but I think you’re brilliant.”

Mickey smiled and looked down at his happy little Wolf. “Thanks, Deb.”

“You wanna go give Ian his soup? I bet he’d appreciate that. You don’t got to spoon feed him though.”

“Sure,” she stood up from the sofa, taking her empty plate with her to put in the sink.

She knocked softly on the door.

“Come in,” Ian called, sitting up as he did so. “Debbie!”

“Hey, sick ass,” she laughed. “Got you some miracle soup. Mickey and I had pizza.”

“What?” Ian blinked, feigning a shocked look. “You get gorgeous, delicious, yummy, pizza, and I get veggie water?”

“Pretty much, your fault for getting sick.”

“I didn’t get sick on purpose!”

“Sureeee,” Debbie rolled her eyes and handed Ian the bowl and spoon. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like shit,” Ian shrugged. “My head is killing, my chest feels like I’m being stabbed whenever I cough, I’ve been shaking like a madman, and everything fucking hurts. But, I guess I’m good.”

“Well, eat the miracle soup, you’ll feel better.”

“I’d feel better if I was eating pizza.”

“Mickey saved you some, because he’s a good boyfriend, and you’re an asshole.”

“We made up!”

Debbie shrugged her shoulders and laughed. “You’re still an asshole for being mean to him. Mickey’s really cool, he could easily get whoever he wanted, so you better watch yourself.”

Ian smiled a little. “I guess he could get whoever he wanted. Now he’s stuck with my sick ass. But he’s so good at playing doctor.”

“Do- do you love him?”

 

“I don’t say that enough? Yeah I - achoo - I do love him. He’s literally the most perfect human ever, Debbie.”

“Ugh, I want a boyfriend now,” Debbie sighed.

“As your big brother, it’s my responsibility to beat the shit out of anyone who’s not good enough for you, so we can find you your perfect person. Anyone ever break your heart, you - achoo - tell me and I’ll break a fucker’s nose.”

“Thanks, Ian,” Debbie laughed. “But, I don’t think you’re going to be breaking any noses when you can barely hold that spoon. I’d probably ask Mickey to break someone’s nose first, he seems more capable.”

“I am perfectly capable!” Ian protested, but his shaking hand and mini coughing fit said otherwise.

“Sure you are. I’m going to go before I catch whatever the fuck you got,” she smiled and stood up from the bed.

“Thanks for your miracle soup,” Ian said as she left.

***

Ian barely opened his eyes before he had to shut them again. The room was bright. Too bright. It hurt his head to open his eyes.

He tried again, blinking a few times. He squinted at the white room that was not his bedroom. He was suddenly aware of a consistent beeping sound and a hand gently holding his own.

“Where the-” Ian barely whispered before groaning at his attempt to sit up.

“Ian!” he heard as he closed his eyes again and fell back into the darkness.


	21. Chapter Twenty One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Changed my mind on the name change, oops! Just changing the bit in the brackets to 'I love you so'. It's a lyric from the song Breezeblock by alt-j, in case you were wondering. Once again, enjoy and thank you!

It was almost time for Mickey to leave for work. He gave Wolf a kiss on his forehead and told him to be good for auntie Debbie. 

“See ya, Wolf,” he said.

He said goodbye to Debbie and then remembered about sleeping Ian. They hadn't heard much of Ian apart from a coughing fit a couple of hours ago.

“Imma say goodbye to Ian,” Mickey said to Debbie as he stood up.

He opened the door to see Ian sleeping on the bed. He figured he'd probably be upset if he didn't wake him to say goodbye so he sat by him and shook him gently.

“Ian,” Mickey said softly. “I'm going now.”

Ian didn't stirr. Mickey shook him a little harder and said his name a little louder. After Mickey had shouted Ian's name the fourth time, Debbie ran in.

“Is he OK?” Debbie asked.

“He's not fuckin’ waking up! Now’s not the time for pranks, Ian,” Mickey said, hoping that maybe he was just playing a game.

“Try slapping him,” Debbie suggested.

“I can't do that,” he shook his head and Debbie pushed past him.

“I will,” she raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face, filling his pale cheek with a faint red. “Ian!”

“He's still alive,” Mickey felt his neck. “Fuck do we do?”

“Wait? Maybe he’s just really tired.”

“Wait?! What if he don't wake up? Fuck!” Mickey paced around the room as Debbie continued to shake him.

“It's probably exhaustion or something, maybe we should call an ambulance.”

“Yeah, yeah, do that.”

Mickey squatted down by the bed to make sure Ian kept breathing whilst they waited for the ambulance.

Debbie was probably right; it was probably exhaustion. But that didn't mean Mickey couldn't be extremely worried. That sick feeling that left a lump in his throat and a weight in his gut was back.

“Half an hour, they said,” Debbie said as she hung up the phone.

“OK, OK,” Mickey rubbed his stressed eyes. “Gimme Lip’s number.”

Mickey (16:42): hey its mickey. debbie was supposed to stay wit ian tonight but gota take him to the hospital. can u come take her home? its getting dark

Lip (16:44): shit he ok?

Mickey (16:45): idfk. u come pick her up?

Lip (16:48): fionas about to leave with the car so will be there in ten

Mickey (16:48): thx

Lip (16:49): ian did say u 2 were fighting. ur not the reason hes going to hospital?

Mickey (16:50): fuck off.i would never hurt him

Lip (16:51): ok.

“Fiona’s going to come pick you up,” Mickey said and Debbie nodded. “I'm going to go with Ian, do you mind you taking Wolf?”

“Sure, sure,” she left the bedroom to pack some of Wolf’s things into a bag as well as collect her own things.

It wasn't long until Fiona was there. She stressed out a little but Mickey managed to keep calm and reassure her that he had it under control whilst waiting for the ambulance. She and Debbie left and Mickey was alone with unconscious Ian.

“You're getting me all stressed, you're gonna pay for that, Gallagher,” Mickey tried to laugh a little but it came out as more of a nervous cough.

Finally, the ambulance arrived. Mickey had to take the car behind it, figuring they'd need a way to get home once Ian had woke his ass up.

The hospital made him feel sick. The lights were too bright. It gave him unclear but shockingly real flashbacks to several occasions when certain people took it too far.

Some nurse was taking him aside to fill in a form.

“What's his name?” she asked calmly.

“Ian, Ian Gallagher.”

“Gallagher, hm, sorry I've been working a long shift, how do you spell that?”

“Er,” Mickey thought for a second. Maths, he could do. English, not his strongest point. “G-A-L-A-G-H-E-R. I think.”

“Just one L?”

“Mm.”

“And his date of birth?”

The questions continued, getting more and more ridiculous until Mickey snapped when she asked his blood type.

“The fuck would I know that for?”

“Yeah, sorry, we gotta fill in these, legal thing,” she shrugged and put the lid on her pen and looked up at Mickey. “Let's go pass these on, see if he's OK. I don't want to, um, assume anything, but it's really only supposed to be parents and spouses allowed out of visiting hours.”

“Uh.”

Mickey wasn't about to confess his sexuality to some stranger. But she had a cute buzzcut and a tattoo of a pride flag on her wrist. Mickey also didn't want to assume, but he figured it was OK.

“I'm his husband, yeah,” Mickey was torn between looking at the floor to hide his embarrassment, or standing up straight, daring her to say anything.

She just smiled and beckoned him to follow.

They walked down several corridors and hallways before she stopped in front of a room and told him to wait outside a moment.

Mickey nervously tapped his fingers on his thighs, trying to listen to the people inside converse, but couldn't make anything out of their low voices.

A couple of people came out before the nurse from before popped her head around the door with a smile. “You can come in.”

Ian lay under white sheets and blankets, still asleep. There were tubes wired into his hand and arm, connected to machines that beeped and dripped fluids.

Mickey couldn't find words, just a whispered “Ian.”

“Firstly, I just want to reassure you, that he's probably going to be fine.”

“Probably? Fuck does that mean?” Mickey snapped, ‘probably going to be fine’ wasn't good enough.

“He's technically in a coma, but technically not. See, coma is caused by brain damage but his brain his fine. We reckon it's just a lot of stress and exhaustion catching up to him at once.”

Mickey swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling responsible. “He gonna wake up or not?”

“He could wake up in ten minutes, ten hours, or ten days. We really don't know. If it goes past seven days, the doctors will put him in an actual induced coma to see if that'll wake him up.”

“Wha- fuck. Fuck! It's my fuckin’ fault. I'm such a fuck up! Fuck!”

“Hey, hey. Calm down. Take a seat,” she gestured to the chair by Ian’s bed.

Mickey took a deep breath and sat down on the seat. He ran his fingers on Ian’s arm, dodging the tubes and tape. His fingers settled in between Ian’s.

“The lights go off in an hour, but you’re fine to stay if you want. If he wakes just press that button to call for the doctor,” she smiled and left, closing the door behind her.

Mickey rubbed his eyes and looked down at Ian. He was so pale and sickly-looking. Fuck. All Mickey needed now was for him to wake up, his face to fill with the warm colour and a slight pink, and to see that big dopey Ian smile.

“Wake up soon, Red,” Mickey muttered, stroking a hand through his ginger hair. “It’s gonna fuckin’ suck without you.”

After a few minutes, Mickey decided he’d better text to tell people what’s happening.

Mickey (19:08): u at the galaghers?

Mandy (19:09): yes, heard about ian, he ok????

Mickey (19:12): idfk. Hes unconscious from stress or smthn. They dont kno when hes gonna fuckin wake up so thats all the shit i know. Pass it on to his family. Room 201 if they wanna come tomorrow.

Mandy (19:14): fuck.. I’ll come tomorrow. I’ve got ur son right now, I’ll bring him too

Mickey (19:15): yeh yeh, could do with seeing his cute face

Mandy (19:16): im sure ians gonna be ok, stay calm and look after urself mickey. Love u x

Mickey put his phone on the bedside table, a little more relaxed as he tried to remind himself that Ian was going to be OK. It’d probably just be a tough few days of painful waiting.

“I’m sorry,” Mickey finally said. “I shouldn’t have let that fight go so far. And I should’ve told you ‘bout Wolf. I’m fuckin’ sorry… I love you. Now hurry the fuck up and wake up, yeah?”

Mickey sat watching Ian for a while, his shallow breaths almost painful to listen to. He answered a few texts from Lip and from an unknown number - now saved as Fiona. He looked up when he heard the door open and the nurse from earlier walked in.

“Hey,” she gave Mickey a sad smile as she pulled up a chair and sat opposite him. “Figured you could use a distraction.”

“Huh?”

“Just like a friendly chat. Stop you from stressing,” she offered with a small smile.

“Uh, yeah, yeah,” Mickey nodded, figuring that a distraction was probably good right now. “What’d you wanna chat about?”

“Life,” she laughed a little. “How did you meet your husband?”

“My-” Mickey almost questioned her, but then remembered he’d claimed to be his spouse, worrying they wouldn’t have let him stay otherwise. “Not a super good story but, my sister tried to hook us up at some bar, and when we got to my place, he was so fuckin’ shit-faced, and just fell asleep instantly, ha.”

“Aw, that’s still kinda cute,” she laughed with him for a moment. “Cuter than how I met my wife, but that’s not hard to beat.”

“Oh, yeah? How’d you meet her?” Mickey asked, feeling nicely comfortable with this stranger as it was just them in the room, someone he felt he could relate to a little.

“I was walking down the street, not really paying attention, when I stood in a massive - massive - pile of dog shit. I was just cursing and shouting and I stumble forward and this girl behind me, also stands in the dog shit. Then we bond of our mutual hatred for people who don’t clean up after their dogs.”

They laughed and Mickey murmured in agreement about the dog shit.

“How long you been married?” Mickey asked her.

“Four years last week. Got the best anniversary present ever, though. Papers to fill in for insemination, so, pretty exciting! We’ve been talking about kids for ages and it’s finally going to happen. You got kids?” she beamed at him and asked.

“Oh, congrats. Uh, yeah, I got a kid,” Mickey grabbed his phone and scrolled through a couple of pictures before showing her the cutest ever picture of himself and Ian with little Wolf, sleeping in between them.

“Aw, you three are adorable,” she grinned at the picture. “I can’t wait for our little one. So… how did you get the baby?”

Mickey sighed, “long messy story, trust me.”

“My shift ended ten minutes ago, I got time,” she said softly.

She was kind and easy to speak to. She didn’t seem judgemental and Mickey felt comfortable talking to her, something Mickey rarely felt (except with Ian). He shrugged and thought fuck it, why not?

He proceeded to explain all the shit. From his brother’s touchy ex, to Wolf’s current location at his “husband’s” sisters. Even very briefly touching on the whole Connor shit. About halfway through his story, the lights went out and she turned on the lamps so they could continue to talk.

“Shit happens,” she said when he’d finished. “But clearly things get better. I mean, now you got that adorable kid and a loving husband.”

“Yeah,” Mickey chuckled a little. “Yeah, things are better.”

He looked down at Ian. Things were better. Ian made things better. He was a godsend, truly.

“Oo, I gotta get home. Kay will probably be worrying,” she shook her head as she stood up. “Um, I only moved into the area pretty recently so I kinda need friends. Can I get your number? Is that weird? We should chat more, you seem like fun.”

Mickey didn’t want to admit it but, he also didn’t really have many friends. He smiled and handed her his phone to put her number im. She handed it back and saved herself as ‘Nurse C’ with a star emoji.

“C for Clara,” she added.

“Thanks,” Mickey said and sent her a text so she’d also get his number.

Mickey (20:52): hello its mickey. Im the dude stood opposite you btw

Nurse C (20:52): Who? Haha. Heyy

“I’m working late tomorrow, so if he’s not up by then, I’ll come see you two again.”

Once she had gone, Mickey smiled a little to himself. He had actually just socialised with someone and made a friend. He couldn’t wait to shove that in Ian’s face and prove that he can be a nice person when he wanted.

A couple more hours passed of Mickey sat in the dim lights, holding Ian’s hand and stroking his hair gently. He yawned loudly and blinked a couple of times. He was fucking tired.

He leant over and kissed Ian’s forehead and murmured “goodnight.”

He rest his head on Ian’s chest, a little uncomfortable in the chair, but he was so tired that he didn’t care. And soon fell asleep.

The past few days, sleeping had been hard. It was hard without having the luxury of Ian’s strong arms around him in case he woke up from a nightmare and needed reassurance that all was good. 

Nightmares were commonplace on nights without Ian.

_“You’re dropping out,” Connor declared as Mickey walked through the door._

_“What?”_

_“You’re dropping out of school,” he said. “Need your ass at home when I’m horny.”_

_Mickey shot him a dirty look, and shook his head at Connor’s usual sexual, vulgar speech. “I like school.”_

_“Don’t give a shit. You’re dropping out,” Connor stood up to meet Mickey at the door._

_“I’m not fuckin’ dropping out. It’s the only place I can get away from your needy ass,” Mickey tried to walk around him, exhausted from his day and not in the mood for confrontation with Connor, again._

_“My needy ass? You think you can do better than me, is that it?” Connor grinned and gripped Mickey’s shoulders, pushing him hard against the closed door._

_Mickey had had enough of his shit._

_He’d been contemplating leaving him at school. He finally had the courage to leave._

_“Actually, yeah, I deserve better than you, you piece of shit.”_

_Sixteen year old Mickey tried to stand up to Connor. But Connor was taller and older and stronger._

_Connor’s fist met his gut, causing Mickey to double over and cough. Then Connor’s knee met his face, sending a terrible pain across Mickey’s face and nose, accompanied with a gush of blood._

_“You can’t do better than me, kid. I got money! I got a house so you can hide from your daddy! Who’s gonna want your used up broken ass? Nobody. So appreciate what I give to you and do as I fucking say! You’re dropping out.”_

_Connor grabbed Mickey’s shirt, pulling him up from the floor and dragging him to the couch to do what he wanted with him._

_“No, no, no…” Mickey said so quietly between coughs and splutters of blood and tears._

Suddenly, the scene changed. There was darkness and nothingness. A large spotlight appeared on his twenty-one year old self. Another spotlight turned on onto his sixteen year old self.

_“It gets better!” he shouted to his teenage self, but he only seemed to be drifting further away._

_“Nobody loves me! I’m a fuckin’ broken piece of shit!” he screamed, not hearing his older self._

_“No! No! You gonna get Ian, he’s gonna make it better!”_

_“The world’s fuckin’ shit! I should just kill myself, escape this shithole!”_

_“Connor’s gonna be gone soon. You’re gonna be happy, I promise!” Mickey relentless shouted out to his younger self. “Hold on! Ian’s coming!”_

_His younger self finally payed attention. He made eye contact and shook his head. “Ian’s going, too. He’s going.”_

Mickey woke up, breathless and with damp eyes dampening the sheets slightly.

“Ian! Ian, wake up,” he cried a little, shaking Ian a bit rougher than he probably should have. “Fuck!” Mickey stood up and paced around the room, rubbing at his eyes and shaking his head trying to reassure himself that everything was going to be OK.

***

Mandy walked in around midday the next day. Mickey’s face lit up the best it could and he managed to smile a little at the sight of little Wolf.

Wolf was instantly smiling and reaching out for Mickey as Mandy handed him over.

“Hey, little Wolf,” Mickey smiled and kissed his forehead.

“Eena!” Wolf turned and pointed at the still-unconscious redhead.

“Eena’s sleeping now, but you can still spend time with Dada, huh?” Mickey ruffled his soft hair a little and Wolf seemed satisfied with that.

“How’re you?” Mandy asked as she took a seat opposite him.

Mickey shrugged and turned his attention back to Wolf as a distraction. Wolf had a big contagious smile and his giggling was too adorable to not smile at.

“Fucky, fuck,” Wolf giggled as he lightly patted Mickey’s face.

Mandy looked up and gave Mickey a shake of her head. “You’ve had him for a week and you’ve already got him speaking like you.”

He shrugged and smiled a little, proud of his little Wolf.

Mandy didn’t stay long. She left Mickey and Wolf after a couple of hours, mentioning something about some of his family visiting later.

Wolf sat quietly on Mickey’s lap. He reached his little arms out and tried slapping Ian a couple of times.

“Eena,” Wolf whined when Ian didn’t wake up to pay attention to him. “Eena!”

Mickey sighed and turned Wolf around to face him. “Ian’s asleep, Wolf.”

“No!” Wolf said, trying to turn around again.

“Another important word,” Mickey smiled and held Wolf a little firmer. “Hey, let’s learn to say Ian’s name properly for when he wakes up, yeah?”

“Eena?”

“Ee-an. Ian.”

“EENA!”

Mickey shook his head and tried again, speaking extra slow. “Ee-an.”

“Ee-na.”

“No. Ian. Eeeeeee-an.”

“Eee….na,” he finally cried with a giggle.

“Yes! Good boy, lil Wolf!” Mickey praised him.

“Eeee-an! Ian, Ian, Ian, Ian!” Wolf repeated over and over before bursting into tears and loudly crying.

“Oh, no, no, you were doing so well,” Mickey stood up and cradled him in his arms.

He bounced around the room a few times but Wolf was incessant, his wailing loud and legs and arms kicking. Mickey rocked and tried saying nice things but nothing was stopping this relentless kid.

He didn’t need changing, and he’d eaten just before Mandy had left. Nothing was shutting this kid up.

Then Mickey came up with an idea.

He walked back over to Ian and moved his arm a little. He placed Wolf down in the space and it was like magic. He blubbered a little but stopped when he looked up at the red hair. He swung a little arm over his chest and cuddled his face close.

“Eee-yan.”

Mickey rubbed his face and shook his head. He smiled sadly at Wolf, now sleeping happily next to Ian. He wanted to tell Ian to ‘wake the fuck up’ again, but was so tired himself. He sat back down and held Ian’s hand again.

***

Mickey looked up and smiled a little as Debbie walked in, followed by Fiona.

Mickey quietly explained what he knew, trying not to wake up Wolf, and they both gave him a small hug and that classic ‘everything will be fine’ line. Luckily, the more Mickey heard that line, the more he believed it.

“You eaten?” Debbie asked as she offered him a sandwich.

“Not hungry,” Mickey dismissed her with a shrug.

“Come on, you don’t wanna get sick as well.”

Mickey thanked her and took the sandwich. Debbie was nice, and whilst Ian was playing the unconscious game, she was also his favourite conscious Gallagher.

“Uh, if he don’t wake up for a couple of days, would you mind looking after Wolf?” Mickey asked them.

Fiona smiled and nodded. “Of course.”

As Debbie and Fiona left, Nurse Clara walked in with her positive smile.

“Aw, he is even cuter in person,” she spoke quietly, also not wanting to wake up Wolf.

“His name’s Wolf - or Wolfgang - but, I call him Wolf.”

“Cute name,” she said. “Any changes?”

“Oh, uh, they did some scans and shit, but they’re all just sayin’ his fine.”

“Well, fine is good enough.”

“I guess it is.”

***

It was late in the night. And Mickey now counted around 35 hours of Ian being asleep. He missed him.

It didn’t feel like he’d been gone for thirty five hours, because they’d barely talked for the four days before that.

Wolf had woken up for a change and some food, before he was back asleep on Ian. Mickey stayed on the uncomfortable plastic chair, holding Ian’s hand again and murmuring whatever the fuck came to his mind.

Ian’s hand twitched a little and Mickey looked quickly, hopefully, up at him. But after a couple of minutes of waiting, that was all he got. Mickey’s eyes wandered sadly back down to their intertwined hands.

“Where the-” Ian whispered and groaned a little.

“Ian!” Mickey shouted as he saw his boyfriend’s weak attempt to sit up.

But his eyes closed again.

“No! No! Wake up,” Mickey cried. “Fuck.”

Wolf woke up and cried again. Mickey cradled him in his arms until he slept in his chest.

He explained to the doctor about Ian temporarily waking up and the doctor said that was good.

“Now that he’s woken up, he’ll probably only sleep as if it was a normal night's sleep, so like eight, ten hours,” the doctor said as he scribbled it on the clipboard.

***

Eight hours passed. Then ten. Still, nothing from Ian.

Finally, finally, at the fourteenth hour, Ian woke up.

“Hey,” Ian croaked and Mickey’s eyes shot up from being half asleep.

“You fuckin’ dick,” Mickey grinned at Ian and his small, pale smile.

“Sorry,” he tried a tiny laugh but it failed and turned into a little cough.

“Don’t go leavin’ me again,” Mickey stood up and kissed his forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mick,” Ian smiled. “Now, care to explain what the fuck I’m doing here?”

Mickey called on the doctor and a couple of people came in, messing with the tubes and machines, whilst Mickey stood back, holding Wolf in his arms.

“We’re going to keep him here for a couple of hours, see how he does. We’ve also got these,” the doctor said, indicating to a pair of crutches. “His joints are going to feel weak and achy for a week or so, so he’ll probably need a little of support. And we got some painkillers he can take.”

“Thanks, thanks,” Mickey replied, taking the crutches and pills.

The people left and Mickey was glad to see Ian sat up, no longer filled with tubes. His face looked less pale, almost normal. But his hair, just as bright as ever.

“Eee-yan,” Wolf reached out for him and Mickey placed him next to him.

“Aw, he knows my name now.”

“Yeah, you were busy bein’ dead so I thought I’d teach him it,” Mickey chuckled and took the seat next to him.

“And who’s that?” Ian asked Wolf and pointed at Mickey.

“Dada!”

Mickey smiled widely and ruffled both Wolf’s and Ian’s hair. He was proud of his little family.

***

They were finally back on their sofa in their home. Hell’s Kitchen was on. Wolf was sitting in his crib eating (smashing with his little hands) a banana. The three cats were cuddling up in their bed. Ian’s hand was in Mickey’s Everything was so perfectly normal again.

Ian rested his head on Mickey’s shoulder but he shrugged him off. “No sleeping.”

“Why?” Ian whined. “I’m tired.”

“Gotta get you into a normal sleeping schedule,” Mickey kissed his cheek and shuffled away from Ian so he couldn’t fall asleep on him.

“Come back,” Ian said weakly. “I swear I won’t fall asleep.”

Mickey rolled his eyes and instantly gave in. He had gone so long without being this close to Ian, why should he deprive himself of this?

Mickey’s fingers lazily traced every bit of Ian he could touch and he sighed contently.

“How you feeling?” Mickey asked Ian.

“Better, tired.”

“You pull shit like that again, I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” Mickey laughed a little.

“Hey! I apologised already,” Ian held his hands up in defence.

“Yeah, yeah. I should apologise, too,” Mickey frowned. “It was probably my fault.”

“No…” Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey, squeezing him tightly. “No.”

“Ay, loosen up the death grip.”

“No,” Ian laughed.

Mickey loved the feeling of Ian laughing whilst pressed so close up against him. Ian’s grip loosened but he didn’t completely let go of their embrace.

“I promise, I won’t die on you again,” Ian laughed again.

“Yeah, ‘cause if you do, then I’d kill you and you’d be double dead.”

“Mhm, but, two negatives make a positive so they cancel out and I’d be alive again,” Ian said with a hint of smugness in his voice.

“The fuck does that mean?” Mickey pulled away to question Ian.

Ian leaned forward and pressed their lips together, gently and slowly.


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

It was a difficult-ish two weeks. Ian was stuck on crutches for the most part. He was constantly tired and constantly aching and it hurt Mickey to see him like that.

Looking after Wolf was hard as well. Ian tried to do what he could, but the best he could do was calm him down when he fussed or let him sleep on his lap. Mickey had to do the feeding, putting him to sleep, keep him entertained, since he was the only one with the energy to do these things.

Work was difficult, too, and money was tighter than ever. Ian hadn’t been able to work much and just sat at the bar for his shift, Kevin only paying him half as he said it “didn’t count as working”.

There was a bright side to it. Ian was full of compliments - even more so than usual - for Mickey, telling him what an amazing doctor he was and how he was an amazing dad and how his ass always looked amazing.

Mickey wasn’t with Ian just for his dick. Well, the dick was a big (pun entirely intended) part of it. But, he also genuinely loved and cared about him. Mickey was only human and this human had had no action for almost three weeks.

He had dropped the odd hint here and there and would “accidentally” wear the tight pants that Ian loved, whilst “accidentally” grinding against him. But Ian was often too tired and Mickey begrudgingly accepted that.

“I just remembered something I meant to ask you,” Ian suddenly said.

“Something along the lines of fuckin’ me? It’s been almost three weeks, Red. I miss you,” Mickey smirked as he threw a leg over Ian to straddle him.

Ian laughed and gave him a quick couple of kisses before pulling back and shaking his head. “No, no.” Mickey tilted his head a little confused and told him to go on. “How do you spell Gallagher?”

“Huh?” he said. “Don’t know how to spell you’re own name, Gallagher?”

“I do, just want to hear you spell it,” Ian smirked a little, clearly up to something, but Mickey didn’t really know what the fuck he was trying to do.

“You’re fuckin’ weird,” Mickey smiled and kissed him again. “G-A-L-A-” he spelt in between quick pecks. “G-H-E-R. That good enough?”

“Gallagher has two L’s,” Ian murmured, leaning forward to kiss him again.

“What? No it fuckin’ don’t,” Mickey dodged Ian and punched him playfully on the arm.

“Yeah it does, sorry,” Ian dotted kisses on his jaw and neck.

“No…” he sounded deflated. “I fuckin’ suck,” Mickey stopped grinding down on him and sighed, resting his head on his shoulder.

Ian just turned to kiss his ear and murmured, “you don’t suck. Wish you would, though.” Ian thrust his hips a little to give him a hint.

“That so?” Mickey cheered up again.

He let Ian kiss his neck a little longer, sucking a little to leave slight pink marks. Mickey pulled away and kissed him quickly again, before sinking off him and onto his knees. 

He rubbed his hands slowly on Ian’s thighs on top of his jeans. Then he slowly moved his hands to his belt, taking his time to undo it, all whilst looking Ian right in the eye, running his tongue across his lips to sufficiently wet them.

He had almost gotten the belt off when they were interrupted by a loud cry.

“Fuckin’ kidding me,” Mickey huffed out and took his hands of Ian’s belt.

“Forgot about that one,” Ian grinned, they had both forgotten about little Wolf sat next to them - although hidden slightly out of view - in his crib.

Mickey stayed in between Ian’s legs for a moment, hoping that Wolf would just stop - it’s not like he could see his dad about to give Ian the best blowjob he’d ever fucking had. Unfortunately, he didn’t stop crying. Mickey rolled his eyes and stood up from the floor, cracking his knuckles as he did and smirking at the look Ian gave him whenever he did that.

He bent over and picked Wolf up from his crib and bounced him a little to cheer him up. “What’s up, little Wolf?”

“Eey-aaaan,” Wolf cried.

“Jesus, he likes you more than me,” Mickey sighed but didn’t hand Wolf over to Ian.

Ian shrugged his shoulders. He brought his legs up onto the sofa and shuffled to lie down a little and watch Mickey struggle with Wolf.

“Come on, Wolf, Dada’s here,” Mickey tried. “Stop fuckin’ crying. Please?”

“Language,” Ian piped up.

“GFY, Ian,” Mickey groaned, his patience wearing thin, and went back to consoling Wolf. “Shh, shh, Wolf. Get your ass to sleep so Dada can finally got some fuckin’ action.”

“Don’t think your son wants to hear about that,” Ian gave Mickey a pitiful smile as the babies incessant crying just got louder.

Mickey tried to sway slow. Then he tried to bounce him and get him laughing. Then he tried the slow rocking again. Then he tried to give him food, his bottle, his wolf teddy. Nothing was fucking working. The kid just continued to cry.

Ian finally stood up from the sofa and walked over to them. He tried to take Wolf from Mickey but he stood back, shaking his head.

“Nah. I gotta make him like me more. He’s gotta get used to it,” Mickey held the crying baby close.

“Aw, come on, give him to me and I’ll get him asleep in no time.”

“He’s gotta learn. What if you’re not here and he starts crying, ay?”

Ian smirked, catching on to what was actually bothering him. “Hm, is Mickey Milkovich jealous?”

“Fuck you is what I am,” Mickey scoffed. “I ain’t fuckin’ jealous of your magic baby powers.”

“I think you are,” Ian teased and wrapped his arms around Mickey and Wolf, pulling them both into a hug.

Wolf wailed a little before he managed to snuggle his face into Ian’s chest and stop crying. Mickey gave Ian a death glare. Maybe he was a _little_ jealous. So what? It didn’t make Mickey a terrible person to be slightly annoyed that his son would rather be cuddled by Ian.

“I guess I do have magic baby powers,” Ian gave a sly smile and took Wolf with him as they parted from the hug.

Mickey huffed a little and folded his arms. He watched as Ian cradled Wolf for a little bit, then put him to sleep down in the crib.

“Aw, don’t sulk, Mick,” Ian said quietly.

“Not fuckin’ sulkin’,” Mickey sulked and let out another loud sigh.

Ian walked back over to Mickey and wrapped his arms around him despite the fact he just stood there with his arms folded and gave Ian a look. Ian kissed the little crease in his forehead and chuckled a little. “Sounds like sulking to me.”

“Asshole.”

“I’m really sorry,” Ian hummed in his ear and kissed his earlobe. “How ‘bout I go apologise properly to you in the bedroom?”

Mickey rolled his eyes dramatically and obviously. He sighed loudly again and tried to act as if Ian’s breath - hot against his neck, or his hands - grabbing at his hips, or the way he kissed his neck, was having no effect on him.

“It’s unfair,” Mickey stated.

“What’s unfair?” Ian sighed, slightly annoyed that Mickey wasn’t responding to him.

“I’m his fuckin’ dad, why does he like you more?”

“Wolf loves you, Mick,” Ian said, and it was true. “Maybe you should dye your hair bright orange, then he might not know the difference.”

“You think I should that?” Mickey asked, somewhat serious.

Ian laughed a little and shook his head at his adorable boyfriend who was just trying so hard. “No, Mick, I was joking. Look, it’s probably because I haven’t been putting much effort into helping him these past couple of weeks. He probably just misses me.”

“Fine,” he sighed loudly again.

“Mm, I’m sorry,” Ian went back to trying to get Mickey hot again. “Come on, there’s one hell of an apology waiting in the bedroom,” Ian tugged at Mickey’s shirt.

“It better be a fuckin’ amazing apology, Gallagher - with two ‘L’s,” Mickey smirked a little.

Ian smiled and practically bounced into the bedroom, dragging Mickey with him.

Ian closed the door quickly and pushed Mickey onto the bed, climbing on top of him and hungrily kissing him. His hands were quickly caressing the skin under Mickey’s shirt liked he hadn’t touched it in forever.

Mickey ardently arched up into his touch and his body. He pushed his hands down Ian’s pants to grab his ass and grind their bodies together. This was so far a pretty fucking good apology, but they were only just getting started.

“Hey, hey, wait, stop” Mickey managed to say and Ian pulled away.

Ian stopped and gave Mickey a worried look, “you alright? You wanna do this?”

“Yeah, I just-” Mickey used this opportunity to grab his shoulders and switch their positions so now he was straddling Ian. “Mhm, I’m better now.”

Mickey’s got a little more comfortable and quickly had their mouths pressed together again, an eager collision of lips and tongue. Ian’s hands moved from under Mickey’s shirt, to run through his dark hair and pull him down slightly and encourage him to mouth-fuck him more.

The grinding of their bodies, and the rather obscene moans coming from their mouths, meant that they were both quickly hot and ready to fuck for the first time in about a month. Ian moved his fingers from Mickey’s hair to pull his own t-shirt off, but Mickey stopped kissing and got off him, shaking his head profusely. 

“Wha-” Ian panted, looking so confused and already looked like they’d fucked. Ian’s hair had the odd strand stuck to his forehead and his lips were slightly swollen and red from being kissed and bit at. He was also sporting a light set of quick hickeys that trailed along his jawline, down his neck and to his t-shirt’s collar.

“This is supposed to be your apology to me,” Mickey said slowly, “and I want a show.”

“A show?” Ian was still slightly confused, but sort of had an idea what he meant since he’d recently offhandedly told Mickey about his brief time as a stripper early last year.

“A show, yeah. Wanna see what you learnt workin’ at those filthy fuckin’ clubs,” Mickey sat down at the end of the bed, planting his feet on the floor and patted his lap.

“I- sure, but, I might be a little rusty, you know?” Ian shook his head but still jumped off the bed and walked in front of Mickey.

“You really wanna show how sorry you are?” he looked up with both a smirk and his puppy-dog eyes, one of them would work.

Ian rolled his eyes, grinned, and said “fuck it.”

He placed a strong hand on one of Mickey’s knees and shoved his legs apart. He settled a knee in between his legs and on the bed, to press down on Mickey’s crotch. Mickey scoffed a little at Ian’s slow performance in attempt to get him to hurry the fuck up.

Ian leaned forward, pretending to go for a kiss, but moved his lips to his ear and lowly whispered, “twenty five gets you a dance.” 

“Fuck off,” Mickey laughed a little and pushed Ian’s chest back a little. “I ain’t got cash on me, besides, you owe me this apology.”

“Mhm, well, how about we find you another way for you to pay me back later?” Ian murmured as he kissed his ear, then his cheek, then pulled away, just ghosting his lips.

“Yeah, how ‘bout we do that,” Mickey tried to go forward to kiss him but Ian was already pulling back, tutting about how customers aren’t allowed to kiss. Mickey reluctantly followed this rule, keeping his bottom lip incarcerated behind his teeth to avoid temptation.

Ian swiftly pulled his t-shirt off his body, loving the look on Mickey’s face every time he saw his bare chest and abs. His face turned this amazing shade of light pink, his eyebrows raised a small bit, and his teeth bit gently down on his lip.

“I usually don’t let people touch, but I can make an exception for you since you’ve been so good to me whilst I’ve been ill.”

“Mhm,” he nodded and his hand was instantly on Ian’s chest, pressing down and feeling his muscled torso.

Ian moved and straddled Mickey, grinding down on him as he expertly rolled his hips. He ran a finger under Mickey’s shirt collar before finally starting to unbutton his shirt, one painfully slow button at a time.

As he exposed the skin little by little, he pressed hot wet kisses to the skin and sucked to leave marks. Mickey was enjoying this, but he was also concerned how the fuck he was going to last if Ian was doing all the right things.

“Anyone ever give you a lap dance before, Mick?” Ian breathed hotly against his neck as he slowly worked another button off. “You ever been into one of those clubs? You'd fit right in there with a body like that. Now you'd make an amazing stripper.”

Mickey felt his face go red and warm as he recalled that one time Mandy had dragged him to a gay strip club to get him “acquainted with the community” after he came out to her.

“Never been,” Mickey said quietly as he was annoyed that Ian had stopped his dancing and was actually waiting for an answer.

Ian had learnt to know when Mickey was lying, but this time was especially easy with his bright red face and his eyes looking anywhere but his face. “So you have been? What was it like?”

“Ugh, Mandy payed some twink to dance on me and I told him to fuck off and I stormed out to go get home and get shit-faced without a hundred other sweaty dudes.”

Ian smirked a little and heavily kissed the scowl that had now formulated on Mickey's face at the memory. Mickey was quickly kissing back and Ian started to dance and grind on him again.

“How was the dance?” Ian continued, trying to squeeze out whatever detail he could get.

“We still talking about this?”

“Just wondering if he was as good as me?” Ian hadn’t worked at that club for long, but he really was a natural. He just found it so easy to move his body. So the answer to ‘has Mickey ever had a lap dance as good as this?’ was pretty clear.

“...No,” Mickey said in hope of getting Ian to shut up and focus back on doing the magical things he was doing with his body.

“You’re so tense, Mick, you need to loosen up,” Ian moaned a little in his ear and gently massaged Mickey’s shoulders before returning to his ‘’dance’’.

Ian was careful not to be too direct with grinding down on Mickey's dick, but nevertheless, he still teased him with enough friction to be almost painful under his pants. Mickey tried to buck his hips up and chase the little friction Ian surrendered, but he just tutted and held him down.

Fuck this. Mickey needed to be fucked, like, now.

“Fuck this, I need you,” Mickey sighed and pushed Ian off him.

Mickey finished the buttons on his shirt and chucked it on the floor. He hastily undid his own belt and pulled down his pants, glancing over at Ian as he did the same to his own clothes. They were quickly both naked and climbing onto the bed.

“How’d you want to do this?” Ian asked quietly in Mickey’s ear, although he was already climbing onto him.

“Uh,” Mickey thought for a quick second, before flipping himself from his stomach to lie on his back. This was the first time they were going to fuck for what felt like forever; he wanted to see him.

“Good choice,” Ian said and swiped two fingers across Mickey’s pink lips. Mickey took the fingers instantly into his mouth, smothering them in saliva and sucking gently.

Mickey waited in intense anticipation as Ian removed his hand from his mouth and slowly moved his hand to his ass. He didn’t tease him for long. He pushed in two fingers at once, slowly, causing Mickey to lowly groan his name.

“Ian, fuck,” he moaned again as Ian began to twist, bend and scissor his fingers inside him.

Ian bit down on the side of Mickey’s neck as he thrust his fingers in and out of him, as the other hand worked up and down the other man's dick, turning Mickey into a moaning mess of lust.

“You like that, Mick?” Ian asked and the look on Mickey’s face gave him his answer.

“Jesus, yes, fuck, you better get in me or I won’t - oh, fuck, - fuckin’ last,” Mickey groaned.

Ian pulled his fingers slowly out - loving the little huff his impatient boyfriend made - then hastily covered his cock in the slick lube. He looked at Mickey and gave him a grin and a wink - which only earned him a middle finger and an eye-roll.

“Hurry the fuck -” Mickey’s words disappeared into a groan as Ian pushed in until he breathlessly bottomed out.

Ian stayed pressed against him all the way in for a moment as they both caught their breaths. He began to pull out and thrust back in slowly but it wasn’t long until he was quickly thrusting and fucking into Mickey’s tight, needy ass.

“Fuck, Mickey, you’re always - so - fucking - perfect,” Ian groaned out as he thrust in again, his fingers almost painfully digging into Mickey’s hips.

Mickey’s fingers raked up and down Ian’s back as he did what he could to fill himself up and take some form of control, but Ian was very much in control and held him firmly.

“I fuckin’ - shit mm, there, fuck - missed you,” Mickey moaned out.

“Missed you, too,” Ian found himself quietly laughing a little and he dropped his head and pressed their foreheads together. “Keep quiet though, you don’t wanna wake the baby up, do you?”

“Fuck off, he sleeps like - hm - a fuckin’ rock.”

From then, Mickey did quieten a little because it would be real fucking annoying if they had to stop this amazing fucking on account of a crying baby. Ian quickly caught on to the fact that Mickey was trying to keep quiet, so he made it his mission to fuck the noise out of him.

He quickly pounded into him, thrusting in and out, giving him little time to adjust to the size of him. Ian moved a hand from Mickey’s hip to tug at his red cock pressed between their bodies.

“Fuck, Ian, I’m - you - fucking - I -” Mickey’s words weren’t making sentences but it didn’t really matter as he felt himself coming closer and closer to - well - coming.

When Ian came inside of him, filling him with his warm release, Mickey knew he was a goner. He shut his eyes tightly as he came thickly in between them, moaning a heated ‘I love you’ in Ian’s ear.

Ian rolled off him and they lay side by side, panting with post-sex blissful smiles on their faces. When they turned their heads to look at each other, they both found themselves laughing a small bit and sighing happily.

It was getting late, pushing past midnight. They had both expected to fuck and fall asleep happily but - although they were both pleasantly satisfied- they were still pretty awake. The adrenaline continued to dance through their bodies and endorphins prevented their grins from fading. It felt like they'd been on a really good run, but this was merely a checkpoint in their run.

“You wanna sleep or…” Ian spoke some minutes later.

“Or… what?” Mickey suggestively waggled his eyebrows.

Ian's reply was to climb back on him and kiss him like they hadn't just been attached by the mouth for the past hour.

A second round turned into a third, which consequently turned into a fourth. Neither of them really had a climax at the fourth round, but both were still completely content and sated with it.

Despite shaking legs and being very - very - tired (it was now past three in the morning) they both still managed to change their sheets and climb into the shower.

The shower was pleasantly hot and was made all that better as the Ian softly caressed warm water and shower gel onto Mickey’s tired body. They washed in silence, half-asleep and yawning a lot. They lazily kissed in the shower for what could have been ten seconds, or ten minutes, because it felt like it lasted forever and not long enough all at once.

Finally, they both crawled under the sheets and nestled closely to one another. They both managed to whisper an ‘I love you’ before falling into what Ian and Mickey would have both considered the best sleep in their lifetime.

***

Mickey woke up to an empty bed and feeling like his whole body was cramping. He groaned and stretched his aching limbs and rubbed his aching jaw. When he figured he’d gotten enough pain out of him, he reached for his phone to check the time.

Holy - how? Two in the afternoon?

“Finally!” Ian grinned as he popped his head around the door. “Wait there!”

Mickey grunted in response, he didn’t really feel like going anywhere anyway.

A minute later, Ian walked back in, Wolf attached to his hip and held with one arm, a plate of fucking pancakes in the other.

“Lunch for Dada,” Ian declared as he sat down on the bed.

“Loon fla Dada!” Wolf - attempted to -repeat.

“C’mere, little Wolf” Mickey smiled and reached for Wolf.

Wolf crawled around on the bed and up to Mickey, and claimed one of Mickey’s thumbs to suck on as he lay down beside him. Mickey shrugged and smiled at his son before turning back to Ian and his massively stupid adorable fucking beautifuly perfect dopey grin.

“You too, come here, you fuckin’ adorable shit,” he said to Ian.

Mickey used his free hand to hold the back of Ian’s head and kiss him deeply, thanking him for last night, for not waking him up too early, for looking after Wolf all morning, and for bringing him pancakes.

“Someone’s feeling pretty loving,” Ian chuckled as Mickey planted a kiss on his cheek and murmured something about how good he looked.

“You fuck me like that, you deserve it,” Mickey winked before he started on the pancakes.

“That so? Guess I’ll have to do that more often,” Ian kissed his neck tenderly, smirking to himself at the lovely collection of bruises from last night.

“Everything is aaaching - you got any -” Ian held up the little packet of painkillers, already ahead of what Mickey was saying. “Yes! Fuck, I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Ian said as Mickey kissed him again and took the pills. “We’re only working a couple of hours tonight, so pretty much got the night off. Got any plans?”

“Why? You got something in mind, Red?” Mickey said to Ian’s smirking face.

“Mhm, thinking of attempting to break last nights rounds record.”

Mickey scoffed a little, “good luck with that. I’m all fucked out for at least another ten hours.”

“Well, we’ll see when we get there, huh?”

“Guess so,” Mickey replied, melting into another kiss from Ian.

***

They’d both gotten back from work a couple of hours ago. Wolf was comfortably asleep in Ian’s arms and Mickey had gone for a shower.

When Mickey walked back in the room, he was dressed smartly in a navy button up and dark pants, he’d even redone his hair even though they’d planned to just spend the night chilling. He was smiling down at his phone and that piqued Ian’s interest.

“What’s so funny?” Ian asked him as he sat down.

“Nothing,” Mickey hid his phone in his pocket and kissed Ian before he could interrogate him further.

“Why- what- Mick-” Ian tried to say, but everytime he tried, Mickey’s mouth was back on his. 

Eventually, Mickey gave Ian a chance to breathe.

“What you dressed up for?”

“Got a hot date Thanks to just agreeing to look after Wolf whilst I go out,” Mickey said.

Ian blinked. “What?”

“I’m fuckin’ with you. But I am going out,” Mickey kissed Ian again and stood up.

“Oh,” Ian said, feeling oddly disappointed since Mickey hadn’t mentioned anything about going out earlier.

“Last minute thing,” Mickey shrugged when he saw Ian’s confused face.

“With who?”

“A friend,” Mickey felt smug and a little proud to say that, because Ian always said he seemed pretty unapproachable to strangers. Well, take that, Ian, Mickey Milkovich had one whole fucking friend!

“You have friends? Or, a friend?” Ian asked, knowing how Mickey felt about anyone that wasn’t him or family.

“Yes! I do! And we’re going out to get shit-faced, likely. I’ll probably be home late so don’t wait up,” Mickey said as he began to move away.

“Hey, hey! Wait!”

“Make it quick, I gotta go, they’re waitin’ outside for me,” Mickey was now at the door, looking at Ian and folding his arms impatiently.

“Is this the friend that had you smiling at your phone like that?” he said, only because very few people could make Mickey smile, not because Ian was beginning to get some pretty bad thoughts and ideas about this whole thing.

“I’m gonna get my ass kicked if I don’t leave now,” Mickey shook his head.

Did Mickey just avoid that question? Why would he do that? Why is he so eager to leave? Is he cheating? Oh, fuck, he is, isn’t he? The thoughts raced through Ian’s head as he looked at his annoyed boyfriend.

“I’m going, bye, love you,” Mickey said all at once and left.

“Mick-” Ian raised his voice a little and called after him, but he was already gone.


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

In hindsight, he knows he probably should have given Ian more of an explanation, but it really was a last minute thing and he was late. He felt his phone buzz several times in his pocket as Ian was interrogating him. It buzzed again and he decided he had to go.

“I’m going, bye, love you,” Mickey said all at once and left.

He somewhat sighed in relief and felt his shoulders relax when he stepped out of the building. He really needed this. A night to just hang out with a friend, drink booze, and have fun.

He could still have fun with Ian, but it’s not selfish to just want a night away, and besides, he hadn’t met up with Clara since the hospital. Maybe it was a little mean to just leave Ian alone with the baby with little information, but Mickey didn’t really have time to think about that.

Nurse C (20:12): i’m at the bus stop now, where you?

Mickey (20:13): um

Mickey (20:13): just got out of the shower?

Nurse C (20:15): jeeeeeeesus, you take longer to get ready than my wife!!!!!

Nurse C (20:18): helloooo

Nurse C (20:20): hurry your lil gay ass up!!!!!

Nurse C (20:21): you are a terrible human…… only joking… BUT HURRY UP!!

Nurse C (20:22): Mickey Galagher you are a dead man I swear to fuck, my lil legs cant cope with standing this long!

On his way towards the bus stop, he felt the guilt bubble and considered turning back and apologise - but he was torn. It’s just one night. 

Mickey read through the texts as he walked briskly down the street. Now he had two people not happy with him… oops. Mickey shrugged and smiled when he saw the mildly pissed off lady with the cute buzzcut leaning against a bus stop.

“I have been texting you like mad? No answer? You suck!” Clara shouted, although she was still smiling, at him.

“Yeah, hello to you, too,” Mickey chuckled. “Sorry, I was having a shower and then Ian was asking a shit load of questions and it felt wrong to just say I needed a break from shit but now I feel fuckin’ bad that I just walked out without telling him, shit.”

“Aw, he’s just worrying about you, Mickey,” she smiled. “How is he?”

“Tons better. Back to normal, really,” he replied, feeling proud of Ian.

“That’s good. I want to meet him soon, you can’t hide his ginger ass from me forever,” she laughed.

“You have met him? Although, he was pretty fuckin’ dead when you did, so…” he shrugged. “It would be nice to get everyone together though. Me, Ian, you, and if you get to meet Ian, then I wanna meet Kay.”

“Deal. Double date it is.”

“Ay! Ay! I don’t do fuckin’ dates.”

Clara dramatically gasped and shook her head wildly. “Fuck off! Of course you do. You’re a romantic tool, Mickey. You trying to tell me that you and your _husband_ have never been on a date?”

“My…? I… I am not a romantic tool?!”

“Whenever we text, you’re constantly gushing about Ian and how good he his, and how beautiful he his, and how he is - and I quote - ‘the single most perfect human being, ever’,” Clara triumphantly said.

OK, maybe Mickey could be a little ‘romantic’. Ian liked that shit. The romantic shit. Said it himself. So did Mickey, although he was a little reluctant to admit it.

But for a ‘romantic tool’, he'd never really done romantic shit like nice dinners and going out and fuck… he'd dressed nicely tonight and fucked off… Ian’ll probably be pissed about that.

“I don’t know about dates, though. He took me out to some countryside one night and confessed his love, ha, that’s a date right?” Mickey squinted a little as he thought and then remembered their talk on the rooftop. “Oh shit... I did promise I’d take him out to dinner or some shit. I know he’d love me to start, being, uh, fuckin’ normal? I don’t know, fuck!”

“Hey, calm down,” Clara gently rubbed his arm. “But, I do think you should step up the romantic game and take him on dates - you tool. Speaking of dates, how about we start ours?”

“Need some fuckin’ booze in me so, yes, let’s go,” they laughed together as they walked down the streets to find their first bar of many that night.

In the first bar, they sipped on a pint each and just got to know each other.

“I’m southside, too,” Clara mentioned, knowing it was safe to assume that the guy with the tattooed knuckles and scowl for anyone who he didn’t know was probably southside. “Well, at least I _was_.”

“Was? Once southside, always southside, there’s no escaping that shithole label no matter where you are. What’s the story behind that, then?”

Clara put down her beer and let out a small sigh, clearly this was something a little serious and Mickey was all ears for his friend. He smiled a little to reassure her that she confide her story in him.

“I was typical south trash, not that everyone in south is trash, but, I lived up to most people’s stereotypes. I did drugs, beat up bitches that looked at me funny, and I hung out with bad people doing petty crimes and shit. But, when I was seventeen, I almost died. I had done a load of coke and thought it’d be a good idea to jump out of a fucking window.”

“Oh, shit,” Mickey muttered.

“After that, I realised these people weren’t my friends. They all ran off and left me to die on that ground because they’d get in trouble for drugs or something. So, I got clean, got a job, moved away, went to college, and now… now, life is good. I got a good job, an amazing wife, and a little girl.”

“You’re amazing,” Mickey smiled and Clara smiled too, relaxed that she wasn’t being judged for her past.

“Thanks, Mickey, you are as well. I mean, the shit you’ve told me about your past, and where you are now, it’s pretty amazing.”

Then they left for their second bar of the night.

This time it was a pretentious bar, but still nice. They had a themed night going on so Clara and he ordered some fancy themed margaritas and sat in a booth away from the busy noise. 

They talked some more about life and how things really did get better even when it seems to only be getting worse. Mickey thought it was so cute how Clara babbled on about how amazing her wife was. And then Mickey found himself doing the same, babbling on about Ian.

“He’s fuckin’ amazing. Amazing to me, and to my son. Without him, I don’t think I’d manage,” Mickey said with confidence.

“Oh my God! That double date thing I said earlier, how about double playdate? We got our little girl Charlie now. She’s about your son’s age, right?”

“Wolf’s almost fourteen months, yeah.”

“Charlie’s fifteen months, but they can still play. Plus, that way, it won’t be a romantic date so you can go back to being frigid with your man,” Clara tutted at him.

“I am not fuckin’ frigid. FINE! I’ll take him out to dinner and book a fancy fuckin’ hotel. Fuck it! I’ll make reservations now, I’ll dress super fancy, I’ll even fuckin’ blow him beforehand, get him ready for the rest of the night like a good boyf- husband.”

“Thanks for the detail on your sex life,” Clara raised her glass and giggled. “But, yeah, you should do that. Surprise him. Maybe it’ll make up for you being a dick and abandoning him with a baby and no explanation.”

At the third bar, they planned on just doing a shot each and leaving, but one shot turned into three shots and sharing a joint.

“You, you really think I was a dick f’r leavin’ Ian tonight?” Mickey asked with a frown.

“I don’t know, I mean, I mean, you get fucking dressed up real fucking nice and then fuck off, he might get ideas.”

“Ideas?”

“Mhm, ideas.”

“Well, fuckin’ elaborate!”

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Clara nodded and went back to staring into space.

“Clara!”

“Shit! Yeah, I mean ideas like, cheating, perhaps? You dress all fancy for someone else and not him… you said it yourself, he’s a worrier.”

Mickey shook his head, fuck. He needed another drink and so he and Clara left for the next bar.

The fourth bar, they were in and out, a quick drink of whiskey and they stumbled off to bar number five.

Number five was a shabby little place, stinking of weed. Joints and bowls were just being passed around left, right and center, and before they’d even gotten up to the bar, Mickey and Clara had taken a good few hits each.

“I- I am having a reaaally good time,” Mickey hugged Clara and she nodded in agreement. “Mm, I shoulda invited Ian, I’m terrible.”

“No! You’re not terrible,” Clara laughed. “OK, you’re pretty fucking terrible. But you’re, you are going to make it up to him with dinner, and sucking his dick!”

“Shh! Shh!” Mickey giggled, too. “Shh, Ian might hear, you’ll ruin the surprise!”

“Oh, got it, lips sealed,” Clara pretended to zip her lips with her finger and chuck an imaginary key onto the floor.

Mickey’s phone buzzed and he was disappointed to see it wasn’t from Ian, but it was from the fancy place further North, confirming his booking for both the meal and the hotel in a couple of nights.

“You should text him,” Clara saw Mickey’s disappointment that Ian hadn’t texted him. “He’s probably upset.”

“I guess, but if he’s upset, shouldn’t I just avoid him?”

“No! If he’s upset, you gotta confront him. Face your problems or they’re gonna get the opportunity to stab you when you’re not facing them.”

“The fuck?” he looked at his highly smart, philosophical friend, who shrugged and blamed it on the high.

Mickey pressed on the texting app and on Ian’s conversations. Maybe he’d drank too much, or smoked too much, but typing was proving difficult.

Mickey (01:02): mnmnm uikm ealy sourrey abd i ljove yoy

Ian (01:04): english?

Fuck. “Clara, slap me.”

“What?”

“I can’t fuckin’ type, you gotta fuckin’ slap me.” 

She shrugged and went for the slap. “FUCKIN’ HELL!”

“YOU TOLD ME TO SLAP YOU!”

“SHIT GIRL, YOU REALLY ARE SOUTHSIDE!” Mickey sobred enough to text, despite the stinging on his face.

“Sorry?” Clara rubbed his cheek.

“Accepted.”

Mickey (01:08): i anm reallkly sorry

Ian (01:09): for what?

Mickey (01:10): leavin withouut a propper epxplain

Ian (01:12): Oh that? No, that’s fine! Me and Your son are having loads of fun! Don’t let me keep you from your hot date that you dressed up so nicely for :)

“Yo, Clara, I think he's cool with it,” Mickey showed her the messages.

“Hm,” Clara analysed the messages. “Nope, he's pissed off. Did you tell him you had a date or something?”

“No… oh. Yeah, I did. I didn't mean it, though, surely he knows I was joking.”

“Nope, he’s mad. You gotta apologise, like, again.”

“Right.”

Mickey (01:18): i doint have a hot date. SHE is just myfriend . u no i am all for DICK (specifically youR DICK) and not TITS thanks. and we are just hanging out. srry i ddint explain it wass a last minute things and shes is impatient as fuck and she just hit me for syaing that!!! i love uuuuuuu

Ian (01:20): Sure. Enjoy sucking his dick. I’m sure he must be worth it since you wore that nice shirt. We never go out and do nice things like that so he really must be special! 

Mickey (01:21) wtff?? u think im cheating?

Ian (01:25): I DONT KNOW WHAT TO THINK! Enjoy the rest of your night. We can talk at home.

Mickey (01:26): sorry

Mickey (01:27): i love you sorry

Mickey (01:27): babyy please im sorry

Mickey knew about Ian's thing for pet names, and hoped that would work. But still no reply.

“Let's just go to the next bar,” Mickey sighed with frustration and they downed the rest of their drinks and left

They had agreed to one drink at a bar then move to the next. Perhaps they should have been more specific with the drinks choice in the rules. They walked - stumbled - out of the fifth bar, drunk and giddy.

“Last bar! Last bar!” Clara declared, pulling Mickey’s now creased, untucked, and one more button undone than when he left the house, shirt.

“No, no, pick a- pick a-um-a different bar,” Mickey was pulling away but she didn’t see the problem.

“What’s wrong with -- this one?”

“You wanna knows a secret, Clara Clara?” Mickey leant against the wall.

Clara smiled widely and jumped a little, her stomach was not too pleased with that and growled, “yes!”

“I- I- work there,” Mickey loudly whispered, still playing the fact that he was telling a secret.

“No!” she gasped loudly in what could only be described as absolute drunken horror!

“Yes!” Mickey cried just as dramatically back.

“No!” she gasped again.

“No?” Mickey was now lost.

“Yes?” Clara was also lost. “We goin’ in here or not?”

“Yes,” Mickey grinned and held the door open for her, bowing down theatrically for her.

“KEVIN!” Mickey shouted as they walked in. “Is two in the fuckin’ morning. Why the fuck you open?”

“Experiment,” he shrugged.

“Niiiiice.”

They walked up to the bar and Kev smiled and raised his eyebrow. “Who’s your lady friend, Mick?”

“Is Clara, Kevin, but that’s a secret,” Mickey said.

“A secret? Why’s that?”

“Uh…” Mickey’s drunken mind thought about it. “No idea. We want, we want alcohol.”

Clara giggled and went to punch Mickey’s arm, but ended up punching the air but she didn’t really care. “Alcohol, Kevin! You hear the man? Two, two alcohol.”

Kevin eyed them suspiciously before making his conclusion. “You two are drunk.”

“Duh, stupid, ‘course we fuckin’ we are! Mighta also smoked a joint or two, but, ay, that’s a, that’s another one of dem secrets, ay?” Mickey’s attempt at a wink came out as an awkward couple of blinks and a lopsided smile.

Kev eyed them again, a little impressed that Mickey had a friend, before handing them both a pint. He watched them waver over to a booth, spilling some beer over his precious - although likely disgusting and sticky - bar floor.

“Where’s Ian?” Kev asked.

“IAN?” Mickey called back. “Ian. Iaaan. Iaaan Gallagheeeer. Uh. He’s somewhere.”

“He know you’re here?”

“Mm, maybe.”

 

Kev shook his head. He figured he might as well text Ian to tell him that his man was a drunken high mess in his bar.

Clara took a sip of her pint and sniffed the air. “It stinks like, uh, happy green smoking drug.”

“Shh… it’sa sssecret,” Mickey slurred a little and gulped half his pint. “I smoked some, but, shh.”

Clara fumbled in her bag and sprayed her perfume on herself and then wafted some in Mickey’s direction, causing him to cough and then giggle, then cough from giggling.

“Challenge!” Clara declared as she got the most random idea in her head. “How many push ups can you do?”

“Pfft! A million - no! A whole fuckin’ billion, in under a whole fuckin’ minute,” Mickey boasted, already shuffling out off the booth and onto the floor.

“One! Two!” Clara laughed and counted his half-assed and drunken push ups.

Mickey didn’t even make three until he collapsed back in the booth, panting like he’d been doing a marathon. Then his phone rang.

“Fuck,” he tried to answer it but it took three tries to slide the little phone and answer.

***

“Mick-” Ian raised his voice a little and called after him, but he was already gone.

Fucking brilliant. Why the fuck is he dressed so nice? He never dresses nice for him? Has he just found someone way hotter and more deserving than him? OK, Ian, calm yourself, it’s probably nothing. Just a friend. Just a friend. Just a friend.

Ian steadid his breathing and looked down at Wolf - who had woken up due to all the commotion.

“Your dada sucks,” Ian sighed. “How come I’ve never heard of this - friend - hm?”

Wolf’s reply was to kick his legs a little until Ian put him down on the ground to wander about in front of him.

Ian sighed and rubbed his eyes. He took his phone from his pocket. Time to investigate this ‘’friend’’.

He checked the Instagram he made Mickey get, but he was yet to make a single post. He had a few followers, Mandy, Ian, Debbie and ha! This must be the ‘’friend’’. @C_Jackman.

Great. Private profile. Ian squinted at the picture but it was difficult to make out. There was a smiling person that Ian couldn’t figure out if it was a man or a woman. Their face was painted rainbow and they were surrounded by other people sporting pride flags and smiles.

So, this person is very likely gay. If it is a woman, then Ian could relax because that’d mean a gay woman, not going to be chasing after Mickey. But if it was a man, fuck.

Their profile name and description didn’t give much away. Just a love quote and a date.

This might not even be the person that Mickey has gone out to see. But, it was the most likely option right now.

The thoughts were coming back. No. No.

Ian looked over at the picture Debbie had gave them for Christmas that was still by the TV. That picture reassured Ian that Mickey loved him. That was undeniably love.

Now he felt guilty for even considering Mickey would cheat on him. OK, so cheating wasn’t entirely ruled out yet. But, Ian was at least a little calmer.

But what the fuck? He and Mickey never go out and do nice things. Now he just has this friend that Ian’s never heard about before tonight and they’re going out to drink all night. He leaves with fuck all explanation, leaving Ian with a little tot to look after.

Now he’s fucking mad. He thought about texting or calling to give him a piece of his mind. But he figured it was best to confront him in person so he couldn’t just hide from this.

Ian sighed and picked Wolf up from the floor. Wolf was happy to snuggle into Ian, dropping his little soft toy and opting to cuddle Ian instead.

Ian relaxed a little with Wolf there. He sort of acted as a reminder that Mickey was still coming home to them. And also a reminder that Mickey needed him and surely he wouldn’t ruin it all for one night with some other guy.

He turned the TV volume up and turned his focus on the movie.

Although Mickey had told him not to wait up, he just had to. He wanted to catch him coming home and just check out his demeanor.

It’s not that he didn’t trust Mickey. No, he trusted him with all his heart. It was just a weird situation and Ian wasn’t sure what to think.

Wolf was sleeping in his crib and the TV had turned off a while ago as it was one in the morning. Then, he received an incomprehensible text from Mickey.

Ian sighed and replied with simply, ‘english?’.

Mickey (01:08): i anm reallkly sorry

Ian (01:09): for what?

Mickey (01:10): leavin withouut a propper epxplain

Ian (01:12): Oh that? No, that’s fine! Me and Your son are having loads of fun! Don’t let me keep you from your hot date that you dressed up so nicely for :)

Hm. Maybe that was a little petty. But, fuck, he was just tired, pissed off, and not in the mood for him apologising this late over text.

Mickey (01:18): i doint have a hot date. SHE is just myfriend . u no i am all for DICK (specificcally youR DICK) and not TITS thanks. and we are just hanging out. srry i ddint explain it wass a last minute things and shes is impatient as fuck and she just hit me for syaing that!!! i love uuuuuuu

Ian (01:20): Sure. Enjoy sucking his dick. I’m sure he must be worth it since you wore that nice shirt. We never go out and do nice things like that so he really must be special! 

OK. Maybe that was a little more petty and a little more angry than he had planned to type.

But it was true. Mickey dressed nice for this person and went out for drinks. Ian’s almost certain they had a conversation about going out and doing nice shit together.

Maybe he did crack a small smile at Mickey’s declaration that he is all for dick - and specifically his dick.

Mickey (01:21) wtff?? u think im cheating?

Fucking hell. Ian didn’t have the patience right now. Was Mickey cheating? How the fuck was he supposed to know. What the fuck?

Ian (01:25): I DONT KNOW WHAT TO THINK! Enjoy the rest of your night. We can talk at home.

He continued to stare at his phone for a bit and watch Mickey send several apologies and pelas. He went back to absentmindedly scrolling through social media whilst waiting for him to come home again.

Not long later, he got a text of Kev.

Kev (02:03): ur man is here

Ian (02:04): your house?

Kev (02:04): alibi

Ian (02:05): he with anyone?

Kev (02:05): some chick. Pretty hot ngl

Ian let out a big fucking sigh of relief. He reminded himself of the way that Mickey can fuck a cock and the way he can beg for it. That was at least some consolation that he wasn’t going to go out fucking girls anytime soon.

Kev (02:08): hes high as fuck and drunk as fuck. u might wanna come collect him.

Ian (02:10): yeah. I’ll call first. You wanna borrow Wolf for the night?

Kev (02:12): okk

He dialed the number and waited. It took way too fucking long for him to pick up.

“H-Hey,” Mickey panted down the phone.

“You been running or something?” Ian asked, but tried to remember that Kev had just confirmed he’s at the Alibi with a lady, but still no reason to panting like a fucking dog.

“Press-ups. I did a - I did a fuckin’ fuckin’ billion,” Mickey said. “I wish you were here to have witnessed my-”

“That’s great. I’m going to come pick you up,” Ian interrupted him.

There was a pause before Mickey spoke again, sounding less giddy than before. “You mad at me?”

“Yeah,” Ian confirmed, not bothering to lie.

“Fuck,” he heard him whisper. “Look, I’m sorry that -”

“No. Not now. I’m coming to get you.”

He hung up on him, still a little pissed.

***

“Uh,” Mickey looked at his phone. “He’s still mad, and he’s coming to get me.”

“Well, enjoy that,” Clara smiled as she stood up. “My Uber’s outside so, see ya.”

“Bye,” Mickey waved as she left.

“Yo, Mickey,” Kev called over to him. “I think Ian’s mad with you.”

“No fuckin’ shit Sherlock!” Mickey snapped. “How the fuck d’you know?”

“He asked me to look after your kid for the rest of the night? So that either means he wants to fuck or he wants to argue, nice and loud, and not traumatise him.”

Mickey walked up to the bar and handed over his empty glass. Fuck. This is brilliant. Just fucking peachy!

It wasn’t long until Ian walked through, walking straight past Mickey and handing over little Wolf and a bag of his stuff to Kevin. He turned around and walked straight back out, completely and intentionally ignoring him.

Mickey was going to take Wolf from Kev’s arms and take him back home because he wasn’t planning on arguing and shouting. But, Wolf was peacefully asleep and it wasn’t fair to expose him to the fight that might break out.

Mickey groaned and followed after him. He sat down in the passenger seat and leaned over to try and kiss him to test if he was mad or not. But Ian turned away and drove.

“Ian-”

“No. Not in the car.”

Mickey went to speak again but he needed the short silent drive to sober him up a little more.

“You look thoroughly fucked,” Ian finally spoke as they walked into the apartment.

“Fuck does that mean?” Mickey said, not entirely sure why Ian was practically spitting out his words.

“I know you were out with some girl. You gone straight now?”

“Straight? Jesus, Ian, SHE’S just my friend.”

“Sure,” Ian massively rolled his eyes.

“And I can fuckin’ prove that, because she wants to meet up with you and my son and her wife and her kid, a good ol’ play-date. Isn’t that what you mad at, isn’t that what you want, huh? Dating?”

“That’s not what I meant. What I meant is I wanna do nice shit with my boyfriend, like a normal fucking couple. Then I see you, get all dressed up nice for someone else.”

“I just wanted to make a fuckin’ good impression. I don’t have many friends, Ian, I just wanted to look fuckin’ respectable. And the fuck do you mean, normal?”

“I don’t even know, Mickey. Do you even want this? Do you even want us?”

The words hurt. Like a sharp knife had expertly sliced his chest open, only to attack his heart with a blunt axe, smashing it repeatedly. Although the whole ordeal only lasted a few seconds, the words still fucking hurt.

“OF COURSE I FUCKIN’ WANT US!” Mickey shouted at him.

“THEN PUT SOME FUCKING EFFORT INTO IT.”

“EFFORT? THE FUCK YOU MEAN. I TELL YOU I LOVE YOU AND I MEAN IT, WE FUCK, WE KISS, WE DO NORMAL SHIT! I TAKE ONE FUCKIN’ NIGHT OFF AND YOU THINK I DON’T WANT YOU ANYMORE?”

 

“A NIGHT OFF? FUCK, MICKEY, IF YOU WANTED A BREAK JUST ASK. WE COULDA DONE SOMETHING TOGETHER! MY FAMILY IS ALWAYS UP FOR LOOKING AFTER YOUR SON IF YOU WANT SOME ALONE TIME OR WANNA FUCKING GO OUT.”

“I-” Mickey felt his shoulders drop a little. Suddenly, there was less anger. More guilt and more regret than anything. “I’m sorry.” He remembered about the dinner and hotel he booked earlier and added, “I’ll make it up to you.”

“You’re going to make it up to me? How?” Ian still seemed angry.

“It’s a fuckin’ surprise.”

“Right, right,” Ian sarcastically smiled.

“Jesus, Ian, what’ll make you calm the fuck down? YOU WANNA FUCKIN’ HIT ME, HUH? THAT’S WHAT CONNOR DID, HELPED HIM CHILL THE FUCK OUT.”

There was an angry silence. The mention of Connor hurting both of them a little.

Mickey had had enough. He walked past Ian and into the bedroom.

He crawled under the covers, pulling the sheets over his head to hide himself from everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm halfway-ish through the chapter after this and mM it's basically just pure self indulgent of my babes having a nice time, so, you got that to look forward to :)


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo. This was supposed to be one half of the chapter but then I ended up writing way more than I had intended so it was too long to be half a chapter. I'd just like to warn you that I am British but I'm trying my best to write with the American terms so hopefully I've got things like chips and jelly right haha.

Mickey lay hidden under the sheets for what felt like an eternity and a half. He felt everything and nothing at once. He was floating in this numbness for a while.

He felt bad. He regretted not taking thirty seconds to just explain that he was going out to meet a friend and that he’s welcome to join if he could get someone to look after the kid. And that extra thirty seconds to explain that he’s booked a hotel and made restaurant reservations to thank him for everything.

He’d had a lot of beginnings in his life.

When he entered that ‘’relationship’’ with Connor, that was the beginning of a painful, painful, spiral downwards. When he ended that ‘’relationship’’ with Connor and when he ended, well, his dad, that was the beginning of a new Mickey, free from such callous, heartless people.

When he entered the relationship with Ian, well, that was truly a beginning. And when his perfectly perfect son came back into his life, although a little rocky at first, that too was a beginning. 

He’d planned for this whole restraunt thing to be another beginning, to make up for the shit he pulled this night and to promise that he does want Ian and promise that they’re going to communicate more and do shit together like couples do.

Mickey heard Ian talking, although couldn’t make out what he was saying. At first, he thought he was ranting to himself, but then he heard his sister’s name and figured he had probably called her to complain about him.

He kept the sheet over his face and he couldn’t even tell if he had his eyes open or closed in the darkness. It was warm under the sheet and almost suffocating, but he felt he deserved it. He held one of his wrists and lightly traced the soft skin with a thumb, his mind wandering to those years he’d used his wrists to vent out all his shit.

The thoughts made him snap back to reality. He promised himself not to fall down there again.

He tried to take a couple of breaths but he felt even more claustrophobic than before, suddenly feeling like he really was suffocating.

Mickey calmed down a little, a heinous voice in his head telling him that it didn’t matter if he suffocated to death: he deserved it.

Ian’s talking stopped and there was a couple of minutes before he walked into the bedroom. He lay down on the bed and turned his head to the lump next to him. He could hear and see Mickey breathing heavily under it, shaking a little. He sighed and let out what little anger was left.

Ian pulled down the sheet to Mickey’s neck and he gasped in the air as if he hadn’t been breathing.

“I spoke to Mandy,” Ian said once Mickey was breathing normally.

Mickey kept his eyes on the ceiling, but the redhead knew he was listening.

“She called you a douchebag, but-”

“She’s right, yeah,” Mickey finally spoke. “I’m a massive fuckin’ douchbag and-”

“BUT-” Ian continued. “I love that douchebag. Even if I am pissed at him for pulling that stunt tonight. It was just one night though, I understand.”

“No, Ian, you don’t understand,” he said, still looking up at the ceiling. “I shoulda taken the time to tell you where the fuck I was going, and with who, and then I shoulda asked if you wanted to stay at home and look after Wolf or if you wanted to come with me. I- I just wasn’t thinking straight.”

Ian sighed a little with relief that Mickey was accepting that he was wrong and was no longer apologising in the form of shouting and arguing.

He watched Mickey for a moment. He watched his eyes squeeze shut and open again, a tear rolled down his cheek and onto the pillow.

“I’m fuckin’ sorry, Ian,” Mickey said as he brought his hands up to rub his eyes.

Ian sighed and said, “three things. Three things you have to agree to, OK?”

“Yeah?”

“One: you can't go out without telling me so I know you’re safe. And if it's something like late night and shit, we gotta talk first and agree. But, I can't control you. It's especially important because of Wolf and all.”

“Understandable, yeah.”

“Two: don't bring your ex up. If you wanna talk about him and vent to me or some shit, that's fine. But shit like comparing me to him, that's not fucking OK.”

Mickey rubbed his face and muttered, “sorry.”

“And three,” Ian placed a hand on Mickey’s chest, by his heart. “I love you.”

Ian climbed under the sheets and laid an arm around Mickey’s chest. He sat up momentarily to kiss his forehead. Mickey turned his own body to face Ian and kiss him on the lips. There was a wet, salty taste of tears in it, but nevertheless, he kissed back.

Mickey burrowed his face in Ian’s chest, probably damping his t-shirt with tears as he continued to shake a little and sniffle under him. Ian didn’t care. 

He forgave him and he still loved him. And love was soppy romantic shit and lightning feelings that had your whole body buzzing and cheesy lines straight from a teen rom-com. And love was also a calm floating sensation, like there was nothing else in the world, no pain and no obstacles to stop you. And love was fierce and strong and painful at times. And love was also sad moments of crying into the one you love’s arms and holding onto them like they’re filled with helium and’ll fly away like a balloon to a young child. 

Love was Mickey Milkovich.

Ian expressed all of this in another kiss to the forehead and a gentle rub to the back as he quietly cried into his chest. His fingers softly ran through Mickey’s dark, messy hair as he calmed down and fell asleep.

“Love you too,” Mickey mumbled even though he was half-way asleep.

***

Mickey woke up alone in the bed.

It was barely sunrise and he was aching everywhere. His hangover wasn't as bad as he'd expected but it still felt like the aftermath of being thwacked in the head with a bat.

He groaned and got up from the bed to undress from the clothes of last night. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants, not bothering with clothing the rest of his body.

He walked into the living room and smiled a little at Ian. He was sat on the couch watching some quiz show and eating peanut butter straight out of the jar and off a spoon. He walked past him and to the kitchen.

Mickey saw that Ian was already prepared for Mickey’s hangover. On the counter, he'd already gotten some painkillers, a drink, and a bottle of chocolate sauce.

He took the ice cream from the freezer and squeezed a copious amount of the sauce over the frozen mint chocolate treat. He then quickly swallowed the pills before going to join Ian on the sofa.

They sat in a nice silence, leaning against each other and eating their food whilst absentmindedly watching the quiz show.

Mickey spoke after a while. “You're up early.”

“Mhm, had shit to do.”

“What shit?”

“Surprise,” Ian grinned and winked.

Mickey eyed him suspiciously but Ian wasn’t giving more information up. He decided to instead comment on their snack choice.

“We need to eat healthier, man,” Mickey gestured to the peanut butter and to his ice cream.

Ian looked down at his own abs and back at Mickey with an eyebrow raised. “I think I'm good.”

Mickey only realised he was staring for too long when he had to lick his dry lips and Ian repeated himself, not sure if Mickey had heard him the first time.

“I- yeah- you're good. You're more than good,” Mickey lightly felt his man’s chest and abs. “Me? Maybe I gotta work out like you.”

Mickey looked down at his own chest and arms and stomach. Sure, he worked out a bit. But most of his strength came from fighting or from working out so he could fight if he needed, he had to compensate for his slight (slight!) lack of height somehow.

“No way!” Ian protested. “You're fine as fuck!”

“Yeah, sure,” Mickey said, unconvinced as he poked at that little chub he got from sitting down.

“You're the hottest fucker around, Mickey,” Ian kissed his cheek.

“That award belongs to you,” Mickey replied, not caring how cheesy that shit sounded.

“Nu-uh. You, Mickey Milkovich, are truly, the hottest fucker within a two mile radius.”

“Only two miles?”

“Maybe three,” Ian joked and licked his peanut butter spoon clean. “I’m going to start running in the mornings again, since it’s getting warmer, you can join if you want to?”

“Pfft,” Mickey scoffed at the thought of that. “The only time I run is to get away from cops.”

“Aw, it’ll be fun. Running together, watching the sunrise-”

“Sunrise! This is one of the very few occasions I’m fuckin’ awake this early, no way am I getting up this early to go for a fuckin’ run. Besides, we can’t both go out, Wolf, remember?”

“We can take him with us?”

“Ian.”

“Fine. But I’m gonna make you run with me one day, gotta keep you looking this hot.”

Mickey processed it for a moment. Then he realised it meant Ian was going to go out early in the mornings. “No!”

“No?” Ian asked, a little taken back with Mickey’s sudden horror at the thought.

“No. What if I wanna fuck in the morning? You just gonna leave me standing there with my dick in my hand?”

“I’ll be home before your lazy, grumpy, needy, hot morning ass wakes up. Y’know, I think you're so hot, I'd be up for licking peanut butter off you,” Ian twirled the peanut butter spoon in his hand.

“Fuck off,” Mickey laughed, not entirely sure if Ian was joking or not. “Come on, it’d be sticky and shit.”

“I was joking,” Ian said as he took another spoon out of the jar and held it close to Mickey’s chest and laughing when Mickey pushed his hand away, still not sure if he was joking.

“You're a kinky shit, aren't y- IAN!” Ian used his finger to wipe a line of peanut butter on Mickey’s neck. “Seriously?” Mickey rolled his eyes but made no attempt to remove it, instead he just stretched his neck to make it easier for Ian to get to.

Ian smiled innocently, acting like he'd done nothing wrong. He leant into Mickey's neck and slowly licked off the line of peanut butter. He let out an exaggerated moan and placed a hand on the back of Mickey's neck to hold him whilst he kissed at the spot he’d licked.

Mickey watched Ian adjust his sweatpants a little and scoffed. “Peanut butter really get you this hard, Red?”

“I do love peanut butter,” Ian shrugged and wiped another smudge of it on Mickey’s shoulder before he could protest.

“More than me?” Mickey questioned as Ian licked and kissed the spread off him again.

“Mm, difficult decision,” Ian smiled at his boyfriend’s small pout at the fact that peanut butter is loved more than him. “Just fucking with you,” he said and kissed his cheek.

“That’s what I thought,” he mumbled back, still sulking slightly.

“I’ll prove it,” Ian said as his hand travelled down Mickey’s bare chest and into his pants. “I’d never do this to peanut butter.”

“You’re talking about peanut butter way too - fuck - fucking much.”

“What’s the problem? Peanut butter doesn’t turn you on?”

“Ian, please,” Mickey thrust his hips a little to get Ian to shut the fuck up about the peanut spread and start putting his hand to good use. “Are you just gonna sit there with your hand down my pants or are your gonna fuckin’ do something?”

Ian smirked and finally did something, slowly stroking Mickey’s quickly hardening cock. “You know, I was thinking, if you wanted to, we could switch things up.”

“Switch thi-” Mickey choked a little on the air when he realised what Ian meant. He suddenly got hot, flustered and defensive at the thought. “What? What’s wrong with what we’ve been doing?”

“Nothing, just something for you to think about and keep in mind,” Ian kissed his neck and whispered in his ear, “whenever you’re ready, of course.”

“Sure. Hey, uh, shouldn’t we go get Wolf from Kev’s? Or maybe let’s watch the TV or some shit.”

“It’s seven in the morning,” Ian laughed a little as Mickey’s flustered state. “You trying to change the topic?”

“No! No, just thinking that-” he was cut off by Ian’s mouth covering his. He relaxed into the kiss and closed his eyes, setting his mind on the feeling of Ian’s lips and tongue and the hand still slowly stroking him.

Then Ian swung a leg over him and straddled his lap. He took his hand off Mickey’s cock to rest both his hands on Mickey’s shoulders.

“You never even thought about it before?” Ian winks and rolls his hips down to grind on Mickey. “Never even thought about what’d it be like to make me your bitch, huh?”

“Make you my b- what are you on about?”

“You know, you, sticking _your_ dick in _my_ ass?”

“Ian! What the fuck?” Mickey punched his arm, just light enough to still be playful. He couldn’t help but thrust his hips up as Ian grinded down again, only to go after the friction, not because he was actually considering topping.

“Didn’t say we had to do it now, just thought you’d like to know - for future reference.”

Mickey was going to tell him to fuck off or something, but Ian was pouting and so he said, “I’ll think ‘bout it.”

“Good.”

Ian kissed him some more, licking into his mouth and biting gently at his lip. Mickey moaned into the kiss and sighed when he pulled away. He sunk off his lap and to the floor, grabbing Mickey’s ass to pull him closer and off the sofa a little. He took his pants down and chucked them to the side before looking up at Mickey.

“Fuck you staring for? You gonna suck me off, or what?” Mickey said after Ian had just been looking at him for way too long doing fuck all else.

“Hm, something like that,” Ian picked Mickey’s thighs up and put them on his shoulders so he could kiss the inside of his thigh.

“Fuck, Ian,” he sighed as Ian placed a wet kiss on his hole.

He lapped it with his tongue a couple of times, as Mickey revelled in the feel of his warm tongue and mouth pleasuring him. Mickey shuffled a little, raising his ass of the sofa more to give Ian a better angle, and locked his ankles behind his head.

Ian was doing all the right things. He kissed and sucked gently. He lapped and stroked his tongue over him before pushing it in and turning Mickey into a panting, breathless mess above him.

Now, Mickey Milkovich was not a religious man. But fuck, when Ian added a finger to mix, he swore he saw God. “Fuck, yes, oh God, Ian,” Mickey moaned loudly as Ian worked.

Mickey felt all the blood rush south and he knew he was close to the edge. As soon as he moaned out Ian’s name to tell him so, Ian pulled away and wrapped his swollen lips around his cock, expertly swallowing up all of his come.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Ian sighed as he licked his lips.

Mickey unhooked his legs from Ian and pulled his pants up. He slipped off the sofa to join him on the floor. He pushed Ian down by the chest and crawled in between his legs, yanking his pants down just enough to pull out his hard cock.

His mouth was on it straight away. He wetly kissed the head and let Ian push him down further. His hand stroked what he couldn’t fit in his mouth in time with each slick bob of his head. Ian thrust into him a little and gripped his hair as he picked up the pace and hummed around his dick.

“So good, Mick,” Ian crooned above him and ran his fingers through his dark hair gripping enough to pull him down everytime he pulled up.

Ian was already halfway done when he started, so it wasn’t long until he groaned out Mickey’s name and Mickey was swallowing up all of his release.

They both lay on the floor for a moment, satisfied. Ian pulled his pants back up and got onto the sofa, taking Mickey with him. He lay stretched across the sofa with Mickey laying on top of him, kissing the redhead’s neck and cheek.

“That was good,” Mickey cracked his knuckles and sat up to straddle him.

“Yeah,” Ian gave a classic dopey grin and sighed happily. “Wanna go get Wolf?”

“Hm,” Mickey leant back down and kissed him gently. “How ‘bout we do this for a minute?”

“Fine by me,” Ian replied and tilted his head slightly to achieve the perfect angle to kiss his man.

***

“Eeya! Dada!” Wolf giggled and reached out for Mickey.

“Hey, little Wolf!” Mickey grinned widely and took him into his arms.

“I like him,” Kev stated. “He cries less than you, Milkovich.”

“Sure, great, thanks Kev,” Mickey started walking away, not wanting to be bullied by him any longer.

“Yeah, thanks,” Ian smiled.

Kev looked between them for a second. He noticed Ian’s hand on the small of Mickey’s back and the way they were smiling so tenderly to each other. “I’m assuming you two made up?”

“Fuck off, Kev,” Mickey said through gritted teeth as he didn’t want to bring up last nights events ever again.

“Fuck you too, Mickey,” Kevin laughed. “Bar’s gonna be closed for a few days, so enjoy the time off.”

“Wait, why? I need the money,” Mickey said back.

“Me and Vee are going to visit her mom or her cousin or, I don’t know. Someone’s sick so we’re going to see them for some damn reason,” he explained. “You’ll get paid half of your usual pay - for no work - so you’re welcome.”

“Thanks,” Mickey grumbled, although he really did need the money as it’d be extra tight what with the night he had planned for tomorrow.

Mickey and Ian said goodbye and walked off down the street. Mickey held Wolf and pulled faces at him, eliciting the cutest fucking sounds ever out of Wolf’s mouth.

They had walked for about twenty minutes until Mickey’s arms hurt and he started to complain. “Why didn’t we just take the fuckin’ car?”

“Because it’s such a nice day for once,” Ian smiled and looked up at the brilliant blue sky.

“Take Wolf,” Mickey said and handed him over, Wolf was more than happy to be taken by Ian and enthusiastically tried to hold onto a chunk of red hair.

Mickey pulled back to walk behind them so he could smoke. He lit a cigarette and sighed out the smoke. He smiled a little as he watched Ian chatter away to Wolf, he even stuck his tongue out everytime he caught his son’s eye.

Mickey’s eyes wandered over his perfect boyfriend’s perfect body. His red hair shone radiantly in the sun, styled back and looking just as amazing as ever. Then there was the damn short-sleeved v-neck he’d worn as it was a warm day. It showed off his arms and perfectly built torso. Then there were those fucking tight jeans.

They hugged his damn ass perfectly and that made Mickey remember Ian whispering into his ear that he’d gladly bottom for him any day of the fucking week. Maybe he was considering it. Maybe he wasn’t. But that still didn’t change the fact that his boyfriend had a nice butt.

“You checking me out, Mick?” Ian chuckled as he turned his head around.

“You wish, firecrotch,” Mickey laughed back and very obviously gave him the once over, and then made the once over a twice over for effect. He flicked his cigarette to the ground and caught up with Ian, slapping his ass a little as he walked next to him.

“I’ve got plans for today,” Ian said as they walked into their apartment.

“Yeah?”

“Kind of a surprise,” Ian winked and walked into the kitchen. He handed Mickey Wolf as he picked his backpack out of the fridge. “Car keys, then we can go.”

“Where to?”

“Um, did you not understand the word ‘surprise’?”

“I know what a fuckin’ surprise is, I just happen to not like ‘em.”

“Relax,” Ian said, handing him a can of beer. “Just a bit of fun.”

“Bit of fun?” Mickey scoffed and emptied the can. “You trickin’ me into going on a date by calling it a bit of fun?”

“Maybe. Fine. It’s technically a date,” Ian confessed. “A date with our little gooseberry,” he cooed at Wolf.

“If it’s a date, you can just ask. We been over this, we’re gonna start doing that shit.”

“Jesus, you make it sound like a chore,” Ian laughed a small bit. He knew Mickey was trying. He knew Mickey really did want to do nice couple shit with him. “Fine then. Mickey Milkovich, will you join me on a date?”

“And the date is?”

“A surprise!”

“Jesus-”

“Please?”

“Where are-”

“Mickey!”

“FINE!” Mickey shouted, although he was still smiling at Ian, who’d now got on his knees and put his hands together to beg to him.

“Thanks,” Ian said sweetly, jumping up to kiss Mickey’s cheek and then kiss Wolf’s forehead. “Let’s go!”

***

They hopped into the car, Ian driving and Mickey sat with Wolf on his lap. Ian turned the radio up on the one station it managed to tune reasonably well into (which actually played decent music), and tapped his fingers on the wheel whilst singing so so terribly along with the song.

Mickey cringed so hard that he did a literal facepalm. Wolf, on the other hand, thought that Ian’s performance was the funniest shit ever. He giggled and clapped his hands and babbled nonsense in attempt to sing along.

“Sing along, Mick!” Ian urged.

“No, no fuckin’ way, I don’t even know the song,” Mickey lied and shook his head.

“Tell him to sing with us, Wolf.”

Wolf hit Mickey and babbled something that probably meant ‘sing along with Ian or I’ll start crying’.

Mickey rolled his eyes and to Ian’s delight, joined in, quietly but still singing with him.

“DESTINY IS CALLING ME, OPEN UP MY EAGER EYES!” Ian belted, turning down the music at the perfect time to catch Mickey sing loudly:

“I’M MR BRIGHTSIIIIIIDE!”

Ian laughed loudly at Mickey’s embarrassed look. He tried to look deadly serious and scold Ian for that, but he was grinning. It was just hard not to smile when you had the cutest kid ever, giggling on your lap, and the best boyfriend ever giggling to your left.

Mickey turned the radio back up so they could continue their in-car concert. He rolled the window down a bit, to let warm wind hit his face softly as they drove down roads Mickey hadn’t been before.

After their voices got tired of singing, the radio went down, and Wolf fell asleep in his arms. He scrolled through social media on his phone, stalking Ian’s Instagram and laughing at old pictures of him whilst Ian complained. Lucky for Ian, Clara texted Mickey so his attention shifted.

Nurse C (11:49): hey, had fun last night :). Killer hangover though.

Mickey (11:51): me too, hangover not so bad tho

Nurse C (11:51): Ian still mad at you?

Mickey (11:52): nah, we good. We going out with Wolf but idk where

Nurse C (11:53): Kay and I are actually bouta go out with Charlie out to the store. Conspiracy: Ian is still mad at you and is taking you somewhere so he can murder you without being seen.

“Yo, Ian, you bout to murder me?” Mickey asked, just to check.

“Maybe,” Ian smirked but Mickey gave him that ‘cut the bullshit’ look. “No, I am not going to murder you. And if I was, I wouldn’t allow Wolf to witness it.”

“Great.”

Mickey (11:55): he says hes not going to murder me

Nurse C (11:56): good, you’re my favourite drinking buddy

Nurse C (11:57): SECOND FAVOURITE! Obviously Kay is my favourite!

Mickey (11:57): Obvs… she tell u to say that?

Nurse (11:58): Yep! We gotta go, talk to you soon byee

Mickey (11:59): bye

They had been driving for a while. Mickey raised his brow when he noticed that they were definitely in a nicer part of town. Wolf began to fuss on Mickey’s lap after waking up from his long nap.

“How much longer?” Mickey asked.

“Not long.”

“Can we get food? I’m fuckin’ hungry and I think Wolf is too.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe? You tryna starve us out or something?”

“God, you’re like a child,” Ian smiled at him and Mickey rolled his eyes and gave him the finger. “We can eat when we get there, which’ll only be like ten minutes.”

“Better fuckin’ only be ten minutes,” he grumbled.

Ian finally parked up and they left the car. Mickey stretched and cracked his knuckles. He handed Wolf to Ian after he started to cry and call his name. Mickey took the backpack off Ian and followed him as he walked down the quiet street.

“So, where we going?” Mickey asked curiously.

“Here,” Ian said, turning off the street and into a park.

He took them to a nice spot on a grassland, under the warm sun, shaded by trees. They swapped baby for backpack again and Ian took a blanket out. Mickey rolled his eyes but smiled a little, recognising that blanket from that time Ian took him to a field in the middle of the night. That night Ian told him he loved him.

“Picnic?” Ian said, micking the words he’d said that night.

Mickey found himself blushing and smiling as Ian laid the blanket out and sat cross-legged, and patted the space beside him to encourage Mickey to do this same. Mickey sat down next to him on the soft blanket. He let Wolf go and he crawled around a little before settling for sitting down in front of them.

Ian opened the backpack and - to Mickey’s delight - started pulling premade sandwiches, bags of chips, a couple of apples, soda cans, and some candy. He’d even packed Wolf’s plush Wolf (which Wolf, the human, had named Cat).

Wolf was happy to hold Cat on his lap, whilst his other little hand squished a strawberry jelly sandwich. Mickey was also happy to get some food and ate some chips whilst Ian opted for a sandwich.

Unlike the first time Mickey and Ian sat on this blanket, Mickey wasn’t afraid to kiss him. He grabbed his face and planted a big ol’ kiss on his lips, not giving one fuck that he had sticky jelly on them and not giving one fuck that it was the middle of the day.

“This is nice,” Mickey grinned and crunched another chip.

“Yep,” Ian managed to say, it was now his turn to turn a bright pink colour and shyly smile at his boyfriend.

They enjoyed their food and people watching, occasionally pulling a face or handing Wolf more food to keep him entertained. Mickey stood up and picked Wolf up to make him laugh. Ian stood up too, to join in in the fun.

“Mickey!” someone shouted as they approached.

“Clara!” Mickey shouted back at her as she and a woman with a stroller approached.

The woman she was with, who Mickey could only assume was Kay, was taller than her and had dark hair tied in a bun and an exhausted look on her face as she jogged with the stroller to catch up with her wife.

“Hey, this is Kay,” Clara introduced them. “And Kay, this is Mickey Gallagher, and his husband, Ian!”

Everyone exchanged hellos and Mickey knew his face was probably as red as his ‘’husband’s’’ hair. Mickey was praying that Ian hadn’t picked up on the whole ‘I pretended you were my husband so I could stay with you in the hospital’ situation. 

Ian was laughing at something Clara had said, when he put his arm around Mickey and pulled him close. “Isn’t my - husband - the best?” Ian chuckled.

“Oh my gosh, he is,” Clara laughed too.

Kay took Charlie out of her stroller and placed her down on the blanket so she could meet Wolf. All four of them watched intently; This was a life or death situation.

It was an extremely intense, nail-biting moment as Charlie crawled towards Wolf. Wolf held out his sticky jelly covered hand, offering her a smushed piece of sandwich. Everyone held their breath, waiting for Charlie’s next move.

Charlie’s hand reached out. She placed her hand on top of the sandwich piece. Her fingers clasped the piece and moved away. Wolf giggled and she did too. The bond had been formed. Friendship = achieved. Mission = success.

“I ship it,” Clara declared.

“Ship it?” Mickey asked, completely lost as to what that meant.

“Same,” Ian agreed with her.

“I don’t,” Kay stepped in. “I do not ship it. Our daughter will not be shipped with anyone until the age of eighteen, sorry.”

“Will somone please fuckin’ explain all the ships!”

“No need to worry yourself with such _complicated_ matters, Mickey,” Clara shrugged and accepted that it was best to not allow Mickey to understand the pain and complications that came with shipping.

“Oh, fuck-fudge!” Kay said, not-so-smoothly saving herself from cursing as she picked Charlie up, “We’re gonna be late.”

“Oh, yeah, we gotta go,” Clara frowned. “I’m still holding you to you’re promise of a double date, Mickey.”

“Ay, I never promised!”

“Sorry, can’t hear you!” Clara grinned as she walked away with Kay and Charlie.

Mickey sighed and sat back down with Wolf. Ian sat back down too, with a smirk on his face.

“So...” Ian began.

“Spit it out!” Mickey snapped as Ian was taking a hell of a long time to say what it was that he wanted.

“Husband, huh?”

“Long story,” Mickey’s face felt hot and he looked away.

“I’ve got time,” Ian kissed his cheek and got a little more comfortable for the story.

“Fine!” Mickey gave in. Maybe he did give in super easy. But it’s hard to say no when the most attractive person in the world kisses your cheek and looks at you with beautiful green eyes, anticipating your words.

He told Ian the story and about his time in the hospital. Ian even had the audacity to comment on Mickey misspelling his surname again, which earned him the evil eye from Mickey.

They stayed at that park for a while. They talked about the past, the present, and even dabbled on the future - a topic which was hard to discuss as they both turned into blushing messes, both still not quite believing that they got to have a future with such an amazing person.

When it started to get dark, they got back in the car and started the long journey back. The radio played softly and Wolf slept soundly in Mickey’s arms, exhausted from the day.

“I’ll do it,” Mickey declared.

“What?”

“I’ll top for you.”

“Really? You don’t have to if you really don’t want to,” Ian offered.

Mickey shook his head, determined to stick to his decision. “Tonight. One night only. Though, that one night rule is subject to change depending on how it goes…”

“Love you, Mick,” Ian smiled to reassure him.

“Yeah, yeah, love ya too, Gallagher.”

***

They’d been making out on the bed for a while now. Everytime Ian’s hand wandered to take off some clothes, Mickey stopped him and told him to stick to kissing for a while.

They couldn’t do this forever. The keen grinding and kissing wasn’t enough and someone had to get fucked eventually.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Ian looked down at him.

“I- I do want to. Let’s do this,” Mickey said, knowing he couldn’t put this off forever.

“How do you want me?” Ian murmured into his ear.

Mickey took a deep breath. If he was going to top, he might as well be confident and shit about it. He wriggled out from underneath Ian and stood at the side of the bed. 

“Strip,” Mickey ordered as he did the same.

They were both naked pretty quickly and Mickey took a moment to check Ian out. He was actually excited about this, albeit a little nervous.

“On your stomach,” Mickey said as he crawled back on to the bed. He lubed up his fingers and bent down to kiss Ian’s neck and shoulder. “You good?” Mickey whispered.

“Mhm,” Ian nodded and pushed his body up onto Mickey. “Wanna feel you, please.”

Well, Mickey wasn’t going to deny such a polite request now, was he? He bit down to leave a mark on a spot where his neck met his shoulder and pushed in one of his fingers.

“Oh,” Ian exhaled and lifted his hips up to encourage him to push deeper.

Mickey slowly pulled his finger out and then pushed back in before adding his second finger and increasing his movements. There was something about the way Ian writhed beneath him, sighing and gasping softly, and the way he felt so tight and hot around his fingers, that got Mickey really hot and eager to get in him.

“Mickey, fuck,” Ian whined as he pulled his fingers out.

Mickey slicked himself up and lined up behind him. He kissed Ian’s back before beginning to push in. He thrust slowly in, until he bottomed out. The room was silent apart from their quick ragged breathing, before Mickey started to move his hips.

“Fuck,” Mickey moaned as Ian rocked his hips a little too.

He started off slow but soon Ian was eagerly asking him for more. He sat up a little and held Ian’s hips to get the best angle to thrust in and out at a good pace.

“OH, fuck, Mickey, yes,” Ian called and Mickey knew he’d found his sweet spot. He thrust into that spot, whilst taking a hand off his hip to stroke his cock quickly.

He pulled out quickly and Ian had barely said ‘what the fuck’ when Mickey was telling him to turn onto his back.

He kissed him roughly, biting down at his lip and grinding their bodies together before pushing back in in one smooth motion.

“Fuck, yes,” Ian groaned, the new angle so much better.

“Ian, fuck,” Mickey keened, the sight of Ian pushing back onto his cock was too fucking much and he was soon coming deep inside of him.

Ian came quickly too, with Mickey’s name on his lips. They collapsed onto the bed and looked up at the ceiling whilst trying to catch their breath.

Ian turned his head and smiled sheepishly at Mickey. “Well…”

“Interesting.”

“Yeah.”

“You like it?” Mickey asked.

“Mhm, you’re pretty fucking good at it. But I think I prefer the other way around. You?”

“Mhm, good. It’s just your dick’s so good at bein’ a dick, it’d be a shame for it to go to waste, understand?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ian laughed softly and reached out to hold Mickey’s hand and intertwine their fingers.

They both lay there for a few minutes, thinking about what had happened. It was pretty good, but they both knew what they preferred.

Mickey suddenly remembered about the whole hotel thing tomorrow night and sat up quickly, startling Ian.

“Woah, you alright?” Ian asked, concerned about his boyfriend who was now tapping with frenzy on his phone.

“Yeah, forgot to ask you something,” Mickey chucked his phone at Ian so he could see the screen. “You free tomorrow night?”

Ian raised a brow and checked out Mickey’s phone. He read the text confirming his booking at some hotel. “What is this?”

“Restaurant booking and a night in a hotel,” Mickey casually replied. “So, you fuckin’ free or not?”

Ian sat up and held Mickey’s jaw. He pressed their lips together slowly, gently, tenderly. “I’m always free for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayy! Gotta love some bottom Ian once in a while. I'm going to start writing the next chapter now, I'm actually super excited to do so, got lot's of idea haha.


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

Mickey woke up but kept his eyes firmly shut, not wanting to expose them to the irritatingly bright morning sun. He groaned a little and pushed his body back to subtly tell his boyfriend to cuddle him. It was always too cold in the mornings without those strong arms draped over him.

When Ian didn’t get the hint, Mickey spun around and opened his eyes. Oh. No Ian. Just a note left lying on his pillow.

_‘Gone for run, back soon x’._

“Back before I wake up my arse,” Mickey grumbled and grudgingly dragged himself out of bed to go check on Wolf.

He pulled on a pair of gray jersey shorts and was checking his phone when he heard Wolf scream. 

His instincts kicked in. He grabbed the bat from the back of the door. He hotfooted into the living room, bat held at the perfect height and angle to beat the shit out of the fucker that made his kid scream like that.

“AAAAAAAargh!” the intruder screamed when Mickey bounded in front of him, bat ready to strike.

“AAAA- WHAT THE FUCK!” Mickey screamed back, still holding the bat high and firm.

“PUT THE FUCKING BAT DOWN, MICKEY!” Ian shouted, still holding an arm in front of his face to protect himself from his angry, although a little scared and confused, boyfriend. 

Mickey dropped and relaxed his arms and chucked the bat onto the couch. “You fuckin’ scared me!”

“I scared you!? You were the one ready to smash my face in with a bat!” Ian bent over a little, trying to catch his breath.

“Your note said you were on a run, then I hear Wolf fuckin’ screaming like he’s aboutta be fuckin’ murdered. Just protecting him,” Mickey gestured to the crying toddler.

“Peek-a-boo gone wrong,” Ian explained. “And I never went for that run. Got distracted by Wolf and then I was trying to feed the cats and then I thought I’d - OH SHIT!” Ian suddenly ran off to the kitchen.

“Ian!” Mickey called after him. He rolled his eyes a little and bent down to pick little crying Wolf out of his crib. He rocked Wolf in his arms and murmured soft words in his ear. It only took a couple of minutes for the crying to turn to the occasional quiet babble.

He put Wolf back down and gave him Cat the wolf to occupy himself with. Mickey walked into the kitchen and saw Ian stood, cooking something in a pan on the stovetop.

“Sorry!” Ian gave him a smile and those damn big eyes that meant Mickey couldn’t feel angry with him anymore. “I was saying - I thought I’d cook my amazing boyfriend some breakfast in bed.”

“Oh,” Mickey smiled a little and sniffed the air, smelling the lovely scent that floated around the kitchen. “Well I’m not in bed anymore.”

“Yeah because you got out of bed to attempt to kill me,” Ian shrugged and laughed.

“I thought you were tryna kill my son! Peek-a-boo can be fuckin’ deadly, Red, gotta be careful,” Mickey laughed too and padded over to Ian by the stove. “Whatcha cookin’?”

“Pancakes, fluffy kind, with banana and a shit ton of chocolate sauce,” Ian knew the way to Mickey’s heart all right.

“Mm, Gallagher, keep talking like that,” Mickey moaned loudly and laughed. “But seriously though, tell me more.”

He walked up behind the tall redhead and wrapped his arms around his middle. He kissed his bare shoulder and ran his hands gently across his body.

“Well-” Ian breathed. “I’m also making you coffee-”

 

“Uh huh,” Mickey thrust his hips a little forward.

“And I’ve got some OJ for Wolf-”

“Mhm,” Mickey’s fingers swiped over Ian’s chest, teasing his pinked nipples and making him gasp a little. All whilst grinding his hips on to him.

“I’ve also - ah - also-” Ian stopped as Mickey’s hand slipped down his pants to rub his quickly hardening cock.

“No, no, carry on,” Mickey stopped, waiting for Ian to continue talking about breakfast “Tell me more about this breakfast.”

“Fuck - I’ve also found the toffee sauce, you know, if you wanted to - Mick - switch things up.”

Mickey smirked against his shoulder. Ian was coming undone with just his hand stroking slowly up and down his dick, his thumb swiping over the head so painfully gentle.

Mickey placed an open-mouthed kiss on Ian’s neck before dropping to his knees. Ian swiftly turned around, his soft smile quickly became a dirty smirk at the beautiful sight that was Mickey Milkovich on his knees, with that hungry, lustful look in his eyes.

“You know, banana pancakes are my second favourite breakfast. This,” Mickey pulled down Ian’s pants. “Now, this - this is a real breakfast.”

“Jesus, Mickey,” Ian laughed a small bit at that but soon shut up and let out a low groan as Mickey’s wonderful, wonderful mouth stretched, smooth with saliva, around his cock.

Mickey's mouth was working up and down his cock at a quick, hungry and needy pace. His hands were gripping his hips and ass to hold him as he worked. Ian's hands fell to Mickey’s hair and he gently stroked his fingers through.

His tongue was sinfully working around him, licking slowly then quickly in all the right places. Mickey hummed lowly when Ian’s hands held his dark hair tighter and his hips were jolting forward.

Ian whined a little as Mickey’s mouth left him entirely. The sight of Mickey down on his knees, lips and mouth glossy with saliva and precum, his usually pale cheeks now flushed red, and his eyes dark and pupils blown with lust

“Thanks for breakfast,” Mickey winked, _fucking winked!_ Then his mouth was back on his dick and swallowing every last bit of his come.

“Fucking hell,” Ian groaned out when he'd finally finished blowing his load down his eager boyfriends throat.

Mickey smirked and licked his lips and fingers as he stood up. He grinned at his tall carrot top, who looked pleasantly shocked and satisfied all at once. He was shaking a little as he tried to process all those images of Mickey down on his knees and save them for a later date.

“Pancakes burning,” Mickey casually informed Ian whilst he washed his hands at the sink.

“Shit, yeah,” Ian shook his head to wake himself from his little daze. “Don't you need to - uh. You want me to-”

Mickey shook his head at him and stood on his toes a little to kiss his cheek. “Gotta change my fuckin’ shorts now though.” He winked and left.

Mickey was back quickly and Wolf, Ian and he, sat on the couch with their - slightly charred - pancakes. Mickey, as per usual, smothered his pancakes in sweet, sugary sauce. Ian had a more sensible amount of chocolate sauce on his bananas and pancakes. And Wolf was focused more on wiping the sauce on his face then actually eating it.

“You were kinda hot earlier,” Ian informed Mickey.

“Fuck you, I’m hot all that time,” Mickey said with his mouth full of half-chewed pancakes and a little bit of sauce smudged on his cheek.

“‘Course you are,” Ian wiped the stray sauce off Mickey’s cheek with his thumb. “So, where’re you taking me?” he asked as he placed his empty plate down on the coffee table.

“Somewhere nice,” Mickey shrugged. “Not a big deal.”

“It is.”

“Isn’t.”

“It is,” Ian repeated, “ _to me_.”

Mickey huffed. He wouldn’t admit it, but it was a big deal and it meant something to him. Here he was, taking his boyfriend out on a date to a nice restaurant and spending a night in a nice hotel where they can just forget about their shit for a while. If you were to ask Mickey five years ago where he saw himself in five years, he’d have probably answered ‘dead’.

But this was fucking real. The man he _fucking loved_ was sat right next to him, stroking his long, pale fingers on Mickey’s leg, and with a small smile whilst he waited for him to speak again.

“The restaurant booking is for seven, and the hotel’s just next door. It’s some steakhouse chain and some fancy looking hotel. I was thinkin’ we get a main course and a bottle of wine, real fancy, and then I was thinkin’ we go to the hotel for some - _dessert_.”

“Sounds fucking perfect, babe,” Ian’s mouth was on his before he even had the chance to protest that damn pet name.

“We also gotta dress nice. Fit in with those posh North Side fuckers.”

“So… Like…” Ian winked at him and raised his brow, but Mickey had no fucking clue what he was getting at.

“So - what?”

“Roleplay?”

“Role- fuck off,” Mickey flicked Ian’s forehead with his finger but his smirk didn’t falter.

“I’m serious. We can role play for the night. Talk about taxes, and homeownership, and how my day at the office was just so stressful and you, being the good little wife you-”

“Good little wi-” Mickey interrupted but Ian’s placed a finger on his lip to shush him and he surprisingly complied.

“Thank you. As I was saying, you, being the good little wife you are, can promise to help _relieve_ some of my stress,” Ian finished triumphantly with a big grin on his face.

“I- I’m not gonna be your fuckin’ trophey wife for the night.”

“OK, fine, not the wife part. But don’t you think it’ll be fun? It’ll keep our minds away from this shit for the night. We can just pretend we live a content, upper-middle life. Where our biggest problem is that our peonies still haven’t come through.”

“Fuckin’ peonies?” Mickey sighed. He tried not to make eye contact with Ian because he knew he had those fucking damn big green eyes staring at him and that fucking playful smirk and that fucker was probably biting his fucking lip as well.

“Please?” Ian tried again, moving his face to make eye contact with Mickey, who was also moving his face to dodge him. Ian placed his hands on either side of Mickey’s face and of course Mickey just let him tilt his head up to lock blue eyes with green. “Thought you said it was my treat?”

“It is your treat. I’m treating my boyfriend to a night out. Not some North douchebag.”

Ian let out a defeated sigh and dropped his hands. He looked away and down at his lap, fiddling with his fingers and a small frown was settled upon his lips.

“Come on, Red, don’t fuckin’ guiltrip me.”

“I’m not,” Ian said quietly.

Mickey ruffled his fingers through his sad lil’ boyfriend’s hair. He thought about it for a moment. It probably would be fun. It probably would help keep his mind of real life shit like work, money, raising a kid in this tiny apartment with three fucking cats, the inevitability of a future he’s not quite sure about but he sure as shit knows he wants to spend it with Ian. Because he fucking loves Ian.

“Fine. Stop throwin’ a tantrum. I’ll do it,” Mickey kissed his cheek and fuck, that massive grin that overtook his little pout was a beautiful sight.

“Thank you. Love you,” Ian kissed him quickly. “If it gets too weird we can always safeword it and go back to being us.”

“Safeword? Isn’t that some fuckin’ BDSM thing?”

“No. Well, yes. It’s not just BDSM. We can safeword anytime. Like if a conversation is getting too uncomfortable or you can feel yourself getting mad or something, you just say the word and I’ll stop.”

“Oh,” Mickey hummed and considered it. “OK. What’s the word?”

“Hmm. Grapefruit?” Ian said and held out his hand for Mickey to shake in agreement.

“Aight then,” he replied and shook his hand. They laughed a little as their handshake lasted a little longer than it should and when it did end, they still held each others hand for just a while longer. As Ian pulled his hand away, Mickey blurted the word out. “Grapefruit!”

“Woah!” Ian held both his hands up in defence. “I didn’t do anything. You can’t mess with safeword, Mick.”

Mickey suddenly felt quite embarrassed, his face turning pink and warm. “I- I wasn’t! Just testin’ the fuckin’ shit out.”

“Alright then,” Ian raised his brow at Mickey’s flustered look, but didn’t investigate further and instead reached out for his coffee cup.

“No!” Mickey snapped again. “Fuck!”

“What’s up, Mickey?” Ian was now becoming actually concerned with him. Mickey rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath, clearly ready to spill out his fucking guts and say whatever it was he was so scared to say.

“Hold my hand.”

“What?” Ian asked, although he had heard him perfectly clear, he just wasn’t sure if he’d meant to say that.

“Hold my fuckin’ hand,” Mickey held his hand out. “Please?” he added.

Ian chuckled a little and leant back on the sofa, taking Mickey’s waiting hand, interlocking their fingers, and moving so Mickey could comfortably rest his body against his.

“My hand’s fuckin’ cold,” Mikey grumbled as an excuse.

***

“What do we need to pack?” Ian asked as he dumped the small suitcase open on the bed.

“Well it’s only one night so… underwear and lube,” Mickey shrugged and tossed the lube from the bedside table at him.

Ian caught the bottle and shook it a little, holding it up to the light to inspect the contents. “You reckon we’ll need more? I mean, it’s your ass that’ll suffer if we run out.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get the one from the shower,” Mickey continued to pace back and forth.

“Hey!” Ian stepped in front of Mickey’s pacing trail and placed his hands on the side of his arms to still him. “Are you alright, Mickey?”

He was stressed. He just wanted the night to go well. He wanted Ian and he to have a good time, relax, and just enjoy themselves, even if that meant he had to play Ian’s little roleplay game. But he wasn’t about to let Ian know he was worried like some bitch. “I’m fine.”

Ian sighed loudly and kissed Mickey’s forehead. “Go get yourself a beer. Relax. I’ll do the packing.”

Mickey grumbled thanks and leant into Ian’s chest for a moment, the scent of _Ian_ just relaxing him.

Ian went into the bathroom to look for the lube, but it wasn’t there. He groaned a little at the fact he couldn’t remember where they’d put it, but then again, they probably used it all the other day. He decided they could just buy more later if they needed to.

Mickey walked back into the bedroom after Ian and held a bottle of vodka in his hands. He placed in the suitcase and nodded. “Now we’re packed.”

Ian took Mickey’s suit from out the wardrobe and handed it to him with a small smirk playing on his lips as he was already picturing Mickey wearing it. Fuck, did Mickey look good in a suit.

They dressed quickly and in silence, occasionally looking over to admire the other person. Ian sat down on the bed and watched Mickey struggle with his tie. He’d managed to get it into a knot and was failing miserably at undoing it through the process of yanking at it repetitively.

“Let me help,” Ian muttered in his ear, causing Mickey to jump a little as he didn’t know when Ian had suddenly stood so close behind him.

Ian put his arms around Mickey and fiddled with the tie, managing to untie it easily and retie it again properly. When Ian had done that he sighed happily and looked at their reflections in the mirror, Mickey’s death glare and Ian’s smile.

“Cheer up, grumpy pants,” Ian giggled in his ear, which only managed to make Mickey’s death glare somehow more death-y. Ian nudged Mickey out of the way of the mirror to check himself out. He ran his fingers through his hair, smirking at his reflection whilst Mickey snickered next to him.

“You kinda look like some fuckin’ James Bond,” Mickey playfully punched his arm.

Ian smiled. He knew all about Mickey’s teenage crush on Daniel Craig. So that was Mickey, subtly, saying that he was hot. “That’ll make you my Bond girl,” Ian grinned and wrapped his arm around Mickey’s waist so that he was pressed against him and both of them could see themselves in the long mirror.

“Fuck you, I ain’t no Bond girl,” Mickey struggled a small bit but damn Ian and his fucking strong arms.

“You know as soon as we leave this apartment, we gotta be in character. We can still be Mickey Milkovich and Ian Gallagher, if you want?”

“No,” Mickey said. “I don’t wanna be a Milkovich tonight.”

“Gallagher, then?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Ian tried to hide his smile, tried not to make a big deal out of it, but his reflection was stupidly grinning back, and to make it even better, so was Mickey’s.

A couple of knocks on the door and Mandy shouting “let me in assholes!” ruined their moment and Mickey had pushed Ian away and was off towards the door.

“Thanks for doing this, Mands,” Ian smiled at her.

“Douchebag,” Mickey’s thanks was a _little_ less polite than Ian’s.

“I’m only doing it because I love my nephew,” Mandy smiled and picked Wolf up. “And I guess, I might also love my asshole brother and my best friend.”

“Right, we’re going,” Mickey said, practically pushing Ian out of the door.

Mandy sat down on the sofa and right onto something hard. “What the - WHAT THE FUCK, YOU GUYS!”

“What?” Ian and Mickey simultaneously said.

Mandy chucked the bottle of lube she’d accidentally sat on at Mickey.

“Great, we’ll take that, save us buying some more,” Ian unzipped the case and put the bottle in.

“More! How many times do you guys plan on fucking? Actually, don’t answer that. I really don’t want to know,” Mandy shook her head, which was now probably full of images of her _brother_ and her _best friend_ fucking. “Just go!”

“Aight, aight. Bye,” Mickey waved and finally managed to push Ian out of the door.

***

They’d been parked up for ten minutes now, but Mickey wanted to wait in the car for a while, his whole demeanor screaming I’m nervous.

“Come on, Mickey. The reservation was for five minutes ago, let’s go. It’s gonna be fine, OK? You don’t have to be nervous. Even if this is the worst fucking date in the world, at least I’m spending it with you and shit’s never bad when I’m with you.”

Mickey finally smiled a little. “Fine, you fuckin’ cheesy shit. Let’s go.”

Before they walked through the large doors of the restaurant, Ian stopped. “This place looks pretty fucking expensive, you sure we can afford this?”

“Yeah, yeah, checked my accounts this morning. I’m treating my boyfriend to a night out, so you don’t have to worry about that shit.”

Ian smiled and kissed the top of his head. He held his arm out for him to link and bowed a little. “You ready to go, Mr. Mickey Gallagher?”

Mickey sighed, smiled and rolled his eyes and got into character. He linked Ian’s arm and nodded as they walked in to the place.

The whole atmosphere of the restaurant was less calm then they’d expected but still nice. There was country music playing in the background, all the tables had various odd and unique candles on them. The walls were plastered with metal road signs and card posters. It was pretty busy and Mickey sighed with relief when the waitress took them to their two-seater, slightly away from the majority of the noise.

When the waitress had taken their order of a bottle of wine and two steak dishes that neither of them had heard about before, they both looked around the place, admiring the interesting decorations.

“So…” Mickey bit his lip a little and tapped his fingers anxiously as he tried to get into character. “How was - how was your day at the office?”

Ian smirked and replied, “stressful.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I had to fire two lazy shits. I was late to one meeting which meant I was subsequently late to the next, the higher up fuckers weren’t too pleased. Then the building had a fucking fire drill whilst I was in the middle of typing up a rundown - with a deadline I may add.”

Mickey chuckled a little, Ian was really in character now with his hand forming a fist on the table as he recalled the stressful events from his imaginary day at the office.

“And then that fucking new assistant, Sarah, tried to flirt with me - again-”

“Woah, hold the fuck up. Girls flirt with you in your fantasy?”

“Mick-” Ian warned, reminding him that that was ridiculous. “I think you should work on leaving your mark on me. All your bites on my neck have faded again. Gotta remind Sarah that she’ll never have me like you do.”

“Sarah can kiss my ass,” Mickey grumbled.

“So in your fantasy, girls kiss your ass?” Ian asked, turning Mickey’s words on him.

“Ian-” Mickey began but their food arrived and they were quiet for a moment until the waitress left again. “How ‘bout I help you with all that stress and tension? Once we get to the hotel, huh?”

“Mhm. How do you plan on doing that?”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to,” Mickey smirked and slowly licked his lips.

“How about you start by sucking me off, get it nice and wet for your sake, then you can bend over and let me fuck my frustrations out, yeah?”

Mickey damn near choked to death on the piece of steak he’d put in his mouth. “Y-yeah!”

Ian smirked and slowly took a bite of his own food and gave an exaggerated moan. Mickey shook his head and looked down on his food to focus on not getting a hard on in this fucking restaurant, but Ian was making that even harder when he decided it’d be the perfect time to play fucking footsie under the table, gently kicking his ankle.

“Lovely wine,” Ian commented as he took a sip of the red wine.

“Uh, yeah,” Mickey agreed and knocked back the entire glass, cringing at the taste.

“You’re supposed to sip it.”

“Yeah, I knew that, Mr Ian The Wine Connoisseur,” Mickey pouted.

“Aw, don’t pout, babe. Tell me about your day.”

“Well, I had a nice breakfast,” Mickey smirked. “Hopin’ dessert’s just as good.”

“Oh, trust me, dessert’s gonna be even better.”

They shared a smirk and looked quite pleased with themselves as they went back to their food.

“Thank you,” Ian smiled. Not his sly smirk or his goofy dorky smile. It was a simple, genuine smile, that made his cheeks pink and the corners of his eyes lightly crinkle.

“For?” Mickey asked, a little confused.

“For this. Taking me out. I’m having a nice time.”

“Yeah, well, I love you,” Mickey smiled too. “I love you, Ian. You deserve all the fancy fuckin’ dinners the world has to offer. You deserve whatever the fuck your heart wants, Gallagher. I can’t give you anything but, fuck, I’ll sure a shit try.”

“I love you,” Ian simply replied. “You make a speech like that, anyone’d think we’re about to get married or some shit.”

Mickey chuckled and looked down, muttering “fuck me.”

“I do.”

Mickey’s eyes shot back up and blinked at Ian. “To… fucking me? Or…”

“To fucking you, yeah.” he nodded. “But for future reference, I do.”

Mickey blinked at him again and gulped. The redhead had that smirk on his face and was biting his lip with a wink. Mickey always found it hard to talk about the future. So right now, he wanted to get fucked rather than mull over the words they’d exchanged.

“Shall we get the check?” Mickey managed to say.

***

Mickey swiped their keycard on the lock and opened up the door. It was like walking into a room belonging to a fucking billionaire… OK, maybe not _that_ nice, but it was still pretty amazing.

The large bed in the centre of the room had heavy, white cotton sheets with a black bed runner sporting intricate golden designs. The bed also had an unnecessary amount of pillows in an assortment of shapes and sizes. The furniture was dark black wood, matching the skirting and gray wallpapered walls.

They wandered into the bathroom, which was just as grand as the bedroom. It had marble floors and walls, two (yes, two!) sinks, a shiny white toilet, a bath with the fanciest fucking brass bath taps ever, and a shower with clear, modern glass walls. For fuck’s sake, the shower was separate to the bath!

They walked back into the bedroom and as Ian placed the suitcase on the bed, Mickey started to chuck off the unnecessary pillows.

Ian looked through a couple of the drawers and flashed a small box he’d found. “Cards. Perfect.”

“Playing cards? You wanna play fuckin’ poker or something?”

“No, no. Don’t you wanna play strip war, _honey_?”

Mickey sucked in a breath and reminded himself that the pet names were part of this roleplay. “If it involves you getting naked, then, yes, yes I wanna play. _Honey_.”

“Bed,” Ian instructed as they both sat down on the bed and he began to shuffle the cards.

He quickly shuffled them and dealt them out one at a time whilst counting them under his breath to make sure they both had the right amount of cards.

“We’ll play the quick-three version. We both have to reveal the top card, and say if you reveal a seven and I reveal a ten, then I win your card. We do that three times and whoever won the most out of the three, wins that round. The winner of the round decides what article of clothing the loser has to remove. FIrst person to be completely naked loses.”

Mickey nodded as he understood the instructions. “What does the winner win?”

“Epic bragging rights,” Ian grinned. “And the pleasure of seeing the other person naked.”

“I’m so gonna fuckin’ win.”

“Well…” Ian contended. “It’s more of a game of luck.”

“I just happen to have really good luck,” Mickey replied, now not so sure that he was going to win. Because if he was to lose, Ian would milk the fuck out of those ‘epic bragging rights’.

They both flipped their first card. Mickey with a four, Ian with a two.

“Ha! What’d I fuckin’ say!” Mickey puffed his chest out with confidence.

“Wouldn’t be so quick to brag, it’s best out of three,” Ian shrugged as they turned their next two cards over. Ian with a king, Mickey with a three. “See?”

“Ay, fuck you that was cheating!”

“How was that cheating?”

“You dealt the cards, how do I know you didn’t jynx them?”

“Jynx them? I’m not a witch, Mickey.”

“You sure as hell look like one,” Mickey glared at Ian as they flipped their next cards over. “HA!” Mickey clapped when he got a ten and Ian got a two again.

“See, I didn't jynx them. What do you want me to remove?”

“Your shirt,” Mickey said quickly as he’d already expected to win and had planned out the order of clothing.

“Before my jacket and tie?” Ian raised his brow but Mickey nodded. He shrugged and loosened his tie and took his jacket off to slowly undo his shirt buttons. Mickey licked his lips and held his breath as he watched Ian strip off his shirt and put his jacket back on before Mickey got a proper chance to admire him.

“Fuckin’ tease,” Mickey grumbled.

They flipped the cards again. Ian lost another round and Mickey got him to take off his jacket. Now Mickey had a great view. Bare torso, save for his tie, bare arms, Ian was fucking hot.

Mickey lost the third round and groaned about Ian cheating, but nonetheless removed his shoes. 

Ian lost again and Mickey took pity and only made him remove his shoes. 

Then Mickey lost and once again, called bullshit (“we’re playing strip war, not bullshit,” Ian reminded him). But Ian was being nice to Mickey and only made him remove both his socks even after Mickey protested one sock = one item of clothing.

“Besides, I’m one item of clothing down, I didn’t wear socks,” Ian argued.

“Fine!” Mickey huffed and removed them before they began revealing cards again.

Mickey got a six, Ian got a jack. Mickey got a nine, Ian got a seven. Then on the third card, they both got queens.

“Now what?” Mickey said.

“We both have to take something off.”

“Ugh!” Mickey folded his arms across his chest and pouted.

“Someone’s a sore loser,” Ian laughed. “You! Take your jacket off.”

“Whatever, I was gonna take it off anyway. It’s getting hot in here,” Mickey muttered as he shrugged his jacket off and threw it on to the floor. “You can take your tie off.”

Mickey lost and ended up removing his tie. Then he lost again and ended up with no trousers. He kept his muttering about cheating quiet but still gave Ian the odd death glare - when he wasn’t grinning at him because, despite chain losing the rounds, he was actually having fun.

Ian lost the next round and then only had his underwear left. Mickey grinned, his pouting and complaining about cheating long gone.

“See, I have a shirt, and underwear left, and you only have underwear so,” Mickey shrugged. “Odds are against you, Gallagher.”

Much to Mickey’s dismay, he lost the next round and now they were both down to just their underwear.

Mickey slowly flipped his first card. A nine.

Ian flipped his first card too. A ten.

“Fuck,” Mickey shook his head.

Mickey’s second card was a four and he groaned.

Luckily, Ian flipped a three.

Now, the final card. This final card will determine who wins and who loses. Both of them held their cards, eyes meeting as Ian slowly counted down from five.

“Three-”

“Wait!” Mickey interrupted. “Gimme a kiss before because this shit can make or break us, man, this is fuckin’ serious.”

Ian laughed but nevertheless, he leant over and kissed him.

Mickey mumbled something into the kiss and pulled away to say it again. “Grapefruit.”

“What? You can’t safeword just cause you might lose.”

“That’s not it. I just wanna be us again. Us us. As in, Mickey and Ian, two dudes from the South Side with low paying, shitty jobs but a kid and three fucking cats to support. But it doesn’t fuckin’ matter ‘cause we love each other. That OK?”

Ian smiled warmly at him and kissed the top of his head. “Perfect.”

Mickey wrapped his arms around Ian’s neck as he kissed him again, hard and with purpose. They both swiped the cards off the bed, not bothering to finish their game and never knowing he won. Although, whenever they recalled this night, Mickey always insisted it was him. But Ian would always remind him that Mickey had one more item of clothing than him (the socks) and therefore, lost.

Ian climbed on top of Mickey as they went from sitting to lying down and grinding desperately against each other.

It wasn’t long until they were naked, moaning each other’s names and Ian was eagerly railing his boyfriend into the mattress.

Surprisingly, that first round didn’t wear them out. Mickey had made an amazing suggestion of taking their next one to that large, marble tub. 

Ian bent over and ran the hot both, squirting a load of the hotel bubble bath that smelt like vanilla into the water.

“How about we just relax in the bath then test the shower, yeah?” Ian offered.

“Sure,” Mickey agreed as they both stepped into the hot - yet perfect bath temperature - bath.

They managed to sit side by side in the tub, it was fucking massive. They leant on each other and both sighed contently, relaxing in the warm water.

Ian thought it was the perfect time to give Mickey a speech on how much he loved his ‘Southside, grumpy, ass’. Mickey listened intently to Ian’s rambling and he knew that when he felt his own face get warm and turn red, it wasn’t entirely the hot bath to blame.

After a good hour, they were ready to get going again and eagerly stepped into the shower.

Once they’d finished there, water was everywhere but they didn’t give a fuck. They dried themselves off with soft, fluffy hotel towels and collapsed onto the bed.

Ian was lazily kissing Mickey’s neck and ear before he whispered, “you wanna go again?”

“Mhm, fuck yeah,” Mickey smirked and shifted to the middle of the bed so Ian could climb on top of him.

“Good job we brought the extra lube,” Ian chuckled softly as he rubbed himself to full hardness, making sure he was slick enough to slide into Mickey.

Mickey whispered a soft _yes_ as Ian slid in and groaned quietly above him. He thrust in and out at a slow, yet passionate pace. Ian’s lips kissed his neck and chest before resting on Mickey’s mouth to kiss away his soft moans.

This time, they didn’t need to fuck at a relentless and unforgiving pace to reach their climaxes. No, this was intimacy, this was love. It didn’t matter who came first but they were soon lying side by side, holding hands (which was now commonplace between them), and feeling content and satisfied.

“I’m gonna marry you one day,” Ian softly sighed.

Mickey turned his head away from their intertwined fingers and looked up at Ian. His body was so full of endorphins and his mind was in such a blissfully happy state, that he couldn’t even respond with anything else besides a soft kiss to his shoulder.

“I really am,” Ian smiled. “I know you said you don’t care about marriage and shit, but one day, I will get down on one knee, and you’ll say yes.”

“What makes you think I’ll say yes to you, Carrot Top?” Mickey teased.

“‘Cause you love me.”

Mickey sighed at that because he was right. So completely right. “Yeah. I really do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I wrote some of the breakfast thing whilst in class, completely clueless that the girl next to me could see my screen. And at one point she's just like 'are you writing smut?' and my dumb ass just makes this awkward sound that was supposed to be a yes and then she proceeds to tell me how she used to write Harry Potter x Draco Malfoy smut when she was younger and honestly, she's my new idol.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter!!


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

Ian had been keeping this secret since he found it in the mail a few days ago. He knew it was wrong to keep secrets, especially this one because it was inevitable that Mickey would find out whether he told him or not.

He justified keeping it hidden for the time he did because he only had two solutions and Mickey wasn’t going to like either of them. There was however, the secret third option: fake his death and flee the country. But he figured Mickey wouldn’t like that one either.

He’d gone for a late evening run, and when he came back, he checked the little mailbox with their apartment number on.

‘HAVE YOU BEEN MIS SOLD PPI?’ Ian laughed at that one before chucking it into the trash.

‘TWO FOR ONE PIZZAS’. He kept this one and figured it’d be useful.

‘PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL’. Interesting. It was addressed to him so he shoved it in his pocket with the pizza voucher.

‘OVERDUE’. The fourth and final piece of mail sported that signature red overdue stamp for their rent - which they were always late with even when they did have the money. He sighed and put that with the rest of the mail to take upstairs.

It was seven pm, and as expected Mickey had decided it was his prime nap time. Wolf was sleeping too so he was careful when closing the door and dropping the mail quietly onto the couch.

He crept past, stopping at one point to smile fondly at the little sleeping boy. He looked just like his dad when he slept. Messy black hair, a couple of teeth grazing his lips, and his eyes shut tightly and away from the light.

He walked past him and turned into the bedroom. Sure enough, Mickey was sleeping in the exact same way. Ian dropped his hoodie at the bottom of the bed and turned to go for a shower.

He only had a quick shower. He scrubbed his hair with that berry shampoo, rinsed and then hopped out. 

He ambled back into the bedroom with a towel wrapped low on his body and almost hanging off his hip. He was glad to see Mickey had woken up and was sat up with the sheets still covering his lower half, looking - as he always did in the morning - grumpy as fuck. He did at least cheer up a little at the sight of his half-naked, slightly wet and practically glistening, boyfriend.

“Like what you see, Mick?” Ian chuckled and leant against the door frame, accidentally on purpose dropping his towel.

“Uh huh,” Mickey grunted and bit his lip a little.

It took Ian a moment to realise what Mickey was doing, but he caught on as soon as Mickey closed his eyes and whispered ‘fuck’.

“Need some help there, baby?” Ian smirked.

“If you’re gonna call me baby, I’m fuckin’ fine, thanks,” Mickey kept his eyes shut but pumped his fist faster.

Ian watched for a couple of minutes, with his arms folded and not even touching himself despite the fact he’d gotten fully hard just watching Mickey. Mickey clearly wasn’t getting anywhere and he was basically scowling at Ian stood there doing nothing.

“You sure you don’t need a hand, baby? Or perhaps, my mouth?” Ian grinned despite Mickey’s glare.

“Jesus, Gallagher, get your fuckin’ mouth over here so I can shut you up with those stupid fuckin’ names, huh?”

“I don’t know. I just had a shower and washed my hair,” Ian shrugged.

Mickey rolled his eyes and replied, “then you better swallow it all up, ay?”

That was Ian's cue to get to work. He strode over to Mickey and got under the sheets to get to his hot and hard cock.

“Why didn't you just wait for me to finish in the shower, huh? Or come join me?” Ian asked before kissing the head and taking Mickey into his mouth.

“Ah - I didn't think you were - oh, fuck - think you were home,” Mickey's hands fell to Ian’s hair to grab his hair and encourage him to stop being a fucking tease.

“Mhm,” Ian hummed around his cock.

Mickey was pretty much halfway already so it only took Ian a couple of minutes to get Mickey to come down his throat.

Mickey collapsed back down to the bed and let out a long whistle. “I'm fuckin’ tired.”

“You only just woke up,” Ian laughed as he stood up to get some clothes on.

“I was up all last night actually! Fuckin’ Wolf was crying for ages and your bitch ass was pretending to be asleep. And Jesus, that kid’s fuckin’ hyper as fuck.”

“I wasn't pretending to be asleep, I was asleep.”

“Yeah, yeah, wake me up in a couple of hours.” And with that, Mickey pulled the sheets over his head and was snoring in a few minutes.

Ian heard a little squeal of happiness and knew that meant Wolf had woke up.

Ian walked into the living room and saw Wolf giggling loudly as Minerva attempted to clean him like one of her babies.

“Hey, Wolfie,” Ian cooed, grabbing the boy’s attention instantly.

“Eena, eey-an!” Wolf stood up in his crib to wave wildly at him as he passed to go to the kitchen.

He opened the fridge to take out a bowl of strawberries for Wolf to eat. He cut them into smaller slices, added a sprinkle of sugar, and transferred them to a plastic plate. When he walked back into the living room, Wolf was eagerly waiting for him whilst attempting to escape his little crib jail.

He chuckled and lifted Wolf out of the crib. He sat him on his lap and handed him the strawberries.

He glanced to the side and his eyes caught that letter. ‘Private and Confidential’.

Ian carefully opened the letter and unfolded the paper to read it.

_Mr. Ian Gallagher,  
Please see enclosed bill for your recent hospital stay. The bill may be paid in full through cheque or bank transfer. The bill may also be paid monthly with direct bank transfer taking a certain amount a month until the debt has been paid fully._

Fuck.

How could he have forgotten about the fucking hospital bills. He held the other piece of paper in his hand, the one with the number on and the contact information to sort out payment.

He took a deep breath before checking to see that cursed number.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

They could hardly pay the fucking rent and now they had a ten grand medical bill on their hands.

OK, don't panic. This'll be fine. Right?

He just needed to think of how to earn more money. Once he'd gotten his solutions, then he'd tell Mickey. He just didn't want him to stress or worry.

He steadied his breath and hastily shoved the letter in between the sofa cushions, praying for that saying ‘out of sight out of mind’ to be true.

“Eena,” Wolf turned around in Ian’s lap to slap his chest. “Dada! Dada!” And cue the crying. Brilliant. At least trying to calm a screaming toddler took his mind off that fucking bill.

He stood up and tried bouncing Wolf a little. Didn't work. Then he tried playing the aeroplane game, soaring him through the air and making ‘woo!’ sounds. Also didn't work.

“Shush, Wolf, Dada’s sleeping,” Ian soothed and tried not to sound too irritated.

He rocked him a little as he continued to cry for ‘Dada’ over and over.

“Jesus, Ian, give him the fuck to me,” Mickey appeared out of fucking nowhere, scaring the shit out of Ian and making him jump a little. “Calm the fuck down, it’s just me.” 

Ian sighed and handed him Wolf. He rolled his eyes at how easy the kid shut the fuck up.

“Ha,” Mickey grinned and lay down on the sofa, letting Wolf lay on top his chest as he calmed his crying. “Who’s got magic fuckin’ baby powers now, Gallagher?”

Ian smiled a little as he watched Mickey gentle stroke Wolf’s back as he calmed down and fell asleep. Mickey yawned as well and sleepily looked up at Ian.

“I'll let you sleep,” Ian quietly said to him. “You mind if I go over and see Fi, she was texting me about something earlier?”

“Don't be too long, I'm being a good boyfriend and cooking you some food tonight.”

“Oh, yeah?” Ian laughed softly. “And what is that you're cooking?”

“Noodles,” Mickey yawned sleepily again. “Noodles and water in a pan.”

“I wouldn't miss it,” Ian smiled and watched Mickey yawn yet again before closing his eyes and mumbling something. “What was that?”

“Not saying it again, Red, missed ya chance to hear it,” Mickey said with his eyes still closed.

“Don't worry, I'll fuck it out of you later,” Ian chuckled and ruffled Mickey’s hair a little. “See ya.”

“Let me fuckin’ sleep,” Mickey grumbled back.

“Grumpy ass,” Ian tutted and laughed to himself as he left.

It was only once he’d pulled in front of the Gallagher house did he realise he’d left Mickey on the sofa with that hospital bill underneath him. Fuck.

He panicked for a moment, thought about going back, but he’d probably just raise suspicion if he went back. So all he could do was just pray to fucking anyone that he didn’t find the paper.

“Oh, hey, Ian!” Fiona smiled as she opened the door and ushered him in. “Sorry it’s a little hectic, Debbie’s still waiting for some parents to pick their kids up…”

Ian laughed when he saw Debbie trying to get five children all under the age of five to listen to her, be quiet, and watch the TV. It made him smile.

“Why’re you here?” Fiona asked once they had reached the quiet (well, less loud) kitchen. “Not that I mind, of course.”

“I- Well,” Ian stammered. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her. It’d just be so much more real if he told someone. So he kept his mouth shut and let this fucking thing eat from the inside out. “I just thought I’d say hi, I was in the area.”

“OK then,” she smiled. “Everything OK with you and Mickey?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Ian nodded, suddenly wanting this conversation to end so he could go home and hid under the safety of his bed sheets and try not to worry.

“And the little one, Wolf?”

“Yeah, he’s good.”

Fiona raised her brow and shook her head. “Now, I know you, Ian. What’s up? Why did you really come here?”

“Nothing, nothing, I’m fine.”

Fiona sighed, she figured she probably wasn't going to get anything out of her brother today. “You and Mickey still coming on Friday night?”

“Yep.”

“I know Debbie and Carl capable of staying home alone for a night, but with Liam, I just can’t be too sure. Better safe than sorry. Look, are you sure you’re OK?”

“Yeah, Jesus, FIona, I’m fine!” he snapped back at her. “Fuck, sorry. I’m just gonna go.”

“You can’t hide whatever is bothering you forever, little brother! I’ll get to you eventually,” Fiona called out at him as he backed up to the door.

“I can try,” Ian laughed a small bit despite the situation.

Ian drove around for a while, wanting to put off going home for as long as possible in fear that Mickey found that damn letter.

He was scared.

Mickey would probably panic when he saw the amount Ian had to pay. Even if it was just a monthly payment, there’s no way they could afford it with their shitty bartending jobs.

Fuck, Ian would probably forgive him if he wanted to leave him. Kick him out of their apartment, break up with him, lose contact with him. What if he got home to find a bag outside their apartment with all his shit stuffed in and a note telling him to fuck off.

It was too much. He just needed to go home and see Mickey to reassure him that he hadn’t left him yet. And also to find a better hiding place for that letter.

Mickey’s lazy ass was still laying down on the sofa but was awake this time. Wolf was stood up and toddling around with cookies in hand, making a massive mess of the carpet as he trailed cookie crumbs everywhere.

“Wolf!” Ian raised his voice and pointed at the boy. “Why’s he up, it’s almost ten?”

“Cookie!” Wolf proudly declared, holding the crumbling treat to the air.

“No cookie! You’re making a mess,” Ian huffed and walked over to pick the cookies out of his hands.

“NO! Eena cookie!” Wolf squealed and tried to grab them back.

Ian groaned and turned to look at the snickering Mickey. “Why did you give him the messiest food ever? Look at the carpet! And it’s way past his bedtime.”

“He woke up and got hungry?” Mickey bargained. “I can just vacuum the crumbs up later, Princess.”

“Oh, do you mean _I_ can vacuum the crumbs up later, Princess?” Ian spat back.

“Cookie!” Wolf cried and reached for his snack.

Ian rolled his eyes and handed him the cookies back, figuring he was going to have to clean the mess up anyway, best not to do it with a crying toddler.

“What the fuck is up with you? Why you pissin’ about?” Mickey sat up on the sofa and watched Ian angrily pace.

Ian’s eyes fell between the now exposed couch cushions and he could see the paper sticking out a little and it made him panic a little. He had to get Mickey or the letter out of there somehow.

“I- just - I - can you go get me a drink?”

“You’re legs fuckin’ broken?” Mickey scoffed.

“Mick, please?”

“Fine,” Mickey snapped, standing from the couch and stomping off to the kitchen.

Ian waited a moment before diving to the sofa and shoving the letter deeper between the cushions so that it was completely under one of them and no way that Mickey would accidently find it.

He turned around and let out a sigh of relief. He watched Wolfgang run around and chase the cats.

“Here,” Mickey handed him the beer as he collapsed into the space next to him.

“Thanks,” Ian said and chugged half of it.

“Ay, you OK?” Mickey asked, sounding less angry and more concerned now.

Ian sighed and laid his head on Mickey’s shoulder, feeling all too exhausted. “Tired.”

***

Over the next couple of days, Mickey only got more suspicious.

He woke up in the middle of one night and grunted a little when he didn’t feel Ian pressed against his back. He felt a dip and shift of weight in the bed and turned himself around to see Ian sat on the end of the bed, head in his hands.

“Ian?” he croaked out, voice a little lost from just waking up.

Ian turned around.

Even in the dark, he could see his eyes were pink and puffy from crying. He had a shiny trail from where tears had fell on either cheek and he sniffed a bit.

“Ian,” Mickey repeated, crawling from under the sheets to crawl over to his desolate looking boyfriend. He wrapped his arms around him and kissed his shoulder. “What’s up, Ian?”

“Nothing,” he lied.

“Come on, don’t give me that bullshit.”

“I’m fine,” Ian protested and successfully managed to get out of Mickey’s hold and stand up.

“You’re clearly not!”

“I’m fucking fine! Jesus, Mickey!” Ian shouted.

Mickey looked hurt. He was only trying to see if his boyfriend was OK. Ian felt bad for snapping at him.

“Sorry,” Ian softly said, the look on Mickey’s face breaking him a little.

“It’s fine,” Mickey quietly replied, climbing back under the sheets.

Ian sighed and lay down next to him. He’d finally figured out two solutions to earn money and help with the medical bills. Neither of them were the best. And he just knew Mickey would hate both.

They didn’t talk about that night the next day. Mickey picked up on Ian being particular irritated all day but didn’t press for any further details.

When Friday came around, Mickey was seriously pissed off now. They hadn’t had sex, Ian wasn’t cuddling him in bed because he was awake so much, and they were having little petty arguments over anything really.

They arrived at the Gallagher house and Debbie took Wolf upstairs with Liam. Fiona was rushing about to get ready for her date.

“I’m goin’ for a piss,” Mickey grumbled and went upstairs.

Ian sighed in somewhat relief and turned to Fiona. “Fi.”

“Yeah,” she said, stopping her running about and grabbed a glass of water.

“I-” Ian still didn’t quite know what to say. He reached into his pocket to pull the letter out and showed her.

“What?” Fiona accepted the letter and quickly read it. “Oh shit, Ian. What are you gonna do?”

“Not sure yet.”

“Fuck,” she shook her head. “You tell Mickey yet?”

“No, I haven’t told Mickey yet,” Ian confessed. “I haven’t had the fucking courage to, really, I’m scared, Fi.”

“Scared or not you have to tell him. You can’t hide this shit, Ian,” she scolded. “Why haven’t you told him yet?”

Ian shrugged and folded the letter to put back into his pocket. “Because my only two fucking solutions to this shit are, well, shit and he’s not going to like any of them. Hell, I don’t even like them!”

“What are your solutions then?”

“Fuck, they take too long to explain, I’ll have to tell you later. Just act normal, don’t let Mickey know.”

“Fine,” Fiona sighed and ran her hand through her hair.

***

“Just act normal, don’t let Mickey know,” Mickey overheard Ian.

Don’t let Mickey know what? Fucking Gallagher keeping secrets? This just confirmed Mickey’s suspicions that something was up.

Fuck it. Ian can’t hide from this any longer.

He walked into the kitchen and both Ian and Fiona gave him the quickest, falsest smiles ever. Mickey glared at Fiona and she got the hint.

“Oo, I’m gonna be late!” Fiona smiled and ran off towards the door. “Bye, thank you!”

Ian still had that fucking fake smile plastered to his face. “You wanna drink?” he asked.

Mickey was fucking pissed.

Too fucking pissed.

He knew it’d be best to step back and leave or confront him and use his words, but honestly, Mickey was so fucking stressed and confused.

“Don’t tell Mickey what, huh?” Mickey scoffed and shoved at Ian’s chest, making him back up into the kitchen further.

“Ah- Nothing,” Ian said back, smile gone.

“Nothing? NOTHING? Bitch, you’ve been acting fuckin’ weird all week! The FUCK is wrong with you?”

Ian tried to get around Mickey but his hands flew up and grabbed his shirt collar to push him against the counter and hold him there.

“Mickey, let go,” Ian grabbed his wrists.

“Not until you tell me what you acting like a fuckin’ bitch for!”

“Please, just drop it,” Ian was getting angry now as well. His face was going pink and the grip on Mickey’s wrists tightening more.

“No! I’m not gonna fuckin’ drop it. Ian, don’t you fuckin’ see that it’s making me hurt? You mope around all day, start arguing about little petty shit, and then you’re not sleeping or you going out and coming home late! What the fuck happened to not keeping secrets and shit, huh?”

“Oh! _You’re_ hurting? I’m the one who has to deal with my fucking problems, I’m doing you a favour not involving you, really!”

“Problems? You callin’ me a problem?” Mickey dropped his hands and stood back, giving Ian room to step away.

“That’s not what I said,” Ian growled through gritted teeth.

“Just fuckin’ tell me what’s got you acting like such a bitch, bitch!” Mickey shoved his chest again.

“DROP IT!” Ian snapped and shoved Mickey back.

“FUCK YOU!”

“OH FUCK YOU TOO!” Ian shoved Mickey’s chest hard.

It’s a cruel thing; Hindsight. Because in hindsight, they know they both should have stepped back then. 

They weren’t sure who swung first. They were just suddenly shoving and punching each other.

Mickey threw his fist at Ian’s face, twice. Ian launched at him and successfully tackled him to the floor to get his own couple of punches in. They shouted and grunted on the floor, kicking and punching, rolling and struggling.

Mickey raised a knee up hard into Ian’s crotch.

 

“Fuck!” Ian groaned, rolling off Mickey.

Mickey saw his opportunity and took it, rolling himself on top of Ian and pinning him down on the cold, blood smeared kitchen floor.

His fist was high in the air, ready to swing down and strike. He panted, tried to catch his breath, and took in Ian’s blooded and bruised face. He caught sight of his own bloodied face in the reflection of the glass stove.

Fuck.

Ian licked blood off his own lips and looked up at to Mickey. He’d clearly calmed down too. They stared into each other’s eyes with horror at the realisation of what they did and pure guilt.

“Grapefruit?” Ian croaked.

“Yeah,” Mickey nodded and rolled off him and lay next to him. “What the fuck, Gallagher!” he shouted when Ian got on top of him and pinned his hands down.

“Roughosing really get you hard, Mick?” Ian grinded his hips down on Mickey’s hard on to prove his point.

It was the adrenaline of the fight that Mickey’s body mistook for something else. And they hadn't had sex for days. Sue him.

It happened quickly. Clothes were being pulled off and teeth and tongue clashing still with anger.

Ian being typical Ian, had a sachet of lube in his back pocket. Mickey grabbed it from his hand and spat blood at him.

“We're not fucking!” Mickey yelled.

“Then why the fuck are we both naked!” Ian yelled back.

Mickey groaned with frustration. Yeah, they were both pissed off with each other. But now they were pissed off _and_ horny.

Mickey grabbed Ian’s shoulders and spun them around so now he was straddling Ian. Ian threw a hand up to grab the back of Mickey’s head and pull him into a heated kiss whilst they mercissley grinded their bodies together.

“You can fuck me,” Ian offered even though it sounded more like a request.

“I was gonna fuckin’ do that anyway, not like it was your genius idea.”

“Fucking get on with it then.”

They shuffled so that Mickey could kneel by Ian and he could wrap his legs around Mickey’s hip.

Mickey stuck two fingers on into Ian’s mouth and he licked them like they were fucking ice lollies or some shit. He pushed his two fingers into Ian’s tight hole, smiriking to himself at the way Ian bit hard on his own lip and gasped. He shoved his fingers in and out but decided he was too pissed off at the moment to really bother prepping him much.

He ripped open the lube and glared at Ian as if to dare him to protest. He squeezed the lube over his cock, quickly stroking it on before looking back up at Ian.

“Fuck you, bitch,” he spat at the redhead.

“Fuck you too, ah - fuck!” Ian spat back as Mickey shoved his whole cock in him with little prep.

Mickey gripped Ian’s hips hard, digging his nails in, whilst he slammed in and out of him.

Mickey leant down, pressing their chests together and growled in his ear. “Why you mopin’ about all the time, Gallagher?”

“Fuck you, I’m not moping about,” Ian replied, biting down hard on the side of Mickey’s neck.

Mickey’s hands were hard gripping Ian’s hips, intentionally leaving dark marks. Ian bit Mickey’s neck and they both bit at each other’s lips when their mouths smashed together fiercely.

“Fuck,” Mickey angrily sighed as he felt Ian clench around his dick as he thrust sharply in and out. “Fuck me for caring, huh? What the fuck are you hiding from - fuck - hiding from me?”

“I just - shit - wasn't ready to tell you yet,” Ian grunted beneath him. “But you're so fucking persistent and just had to keep pushing!”

“I'm only fuckin’ - fuck - persistent because I fucking care, Ian!”

“Sure you do,” Ian replied sarcastically.

“I DO! You’ve been fuckin’ avoiding me for days, you won’t even fuckin’ touch me. It’s hard to sleep, hard to smile, hard to be OK because I’m so fuckin’ worried about your depressed ass.”

They both slowed down at that. The angry and bitter looks on their faces softened. Mickey stared into Ian’s sad eyes, whilst Ian stared back into Mickey’s just-as-sad eyes. Mickey paused. He wasn’t sure whether to continue mercilessly fucking in and out of him, or to stop so they can really talk this shit out.

“Move,” Ian finally gently moaned out.

Mickey thrust slower this time. He got a better position to rock his hips back and forth at a pace that turned the angry hate fucking into soft sex.

“Mm, back hurts,” Ian understandably said. He was lying down naked on kitchen tiles after all.

Mickey pulled out and sat down, resting his back against a cupboard, a little uncomfortable, but he was in such a state that he didn’t really mind.

Ian straddled him and sank back down on his cock, wincing at the burn and pleasure. He rest his head down on Mickey’s shoulder. Mickey would have liked to see his face, Ian had only bottomed a couple of times now. But the wetness he felt on his shoulder made him not so sure he wanted to see his face, although, he told himself it was just Ian’s sweat - not tears - that was dampening his arm.

It was slow. Ian bounced up and down at a slow pace and groaned when Mickey bottomed out. Mickey grunted to, occasionally lifting his hips up to work an extra moan or two out of Ian.

The pace eventually picked up, though it was nowhere near the ruthless fucking from before. Ian was getting close, and Mickey too. Mickey stroked his hand around Ian’s length, up and down, until Ian spilled between their chests, softly whispering Mickey’s name. Mickey came straight after, with a grunt and a satisfied sigh.

Ian stayed on top for a moment because he wanted to keep his face buried in Mickey’s neck and shoulder forever, but he sighed and eventually got off to pull on some clothes to wipe up their mess of come and blood.

They didn’t talk as they pulled clothes on and started to clean up. They didn’t talk as they splashed water onto their faces, removing blood and leaving their faces cleaner but still bruised. They didn’t talk as they stepped over to the sofa, Ian lying down on his back and wordlessly inviting Mickey to lay on top and cuddle him.

Mickey didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want to sound like some bitch. But Ian had barely been touching him, barely been cuddling him in bed, this damn thing he’s been hiding had made him just so isolated. Mickey didn’t want to admit he felt unwanted. It hurt because he’d spent so much of his life feeling unwanted.

“Sorry,” Ian sighed as he gently stroked Mickey’s back.

“Sorry,” he said back, intertwining their fingers. Mickey turned his head to look at Ian and they both smiled sadly at each other. “Jesus, Ian. I can’t believe I fuckin’, fuckin’ hit you.”

Ian managed a chuckle. “What the fuck were we fighting about anyway?”

“Come on, Gallagher, you ain’t concussed.”

“Oh... “ he remembered. “I’ll tell you about it soon. Promise.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” Mickey said again, angrily wiping away a couple of the tears on his cheek.

“Me too,” Ian sat up a little and wiped his thumb across Mickey’s lip, frowning at the blood he’d gotten there.

They kissed. A kiss tasting of blood but full of remorse and love.

***

The next day, they were tangled up in each other, back home, and under the sheets in the middle of the day. They were practically buzzing and full of energy after a _really_ good round of rough, midday fucking.

“Where’re you goin’?” Mickey said, lighting up a cigarette. (He’d really cut down on smoking, what with Wolf and all, but right now he was allowing himself to indulge in just one because why the fuck not.)

“Getting this,” Ian said, holding up a piece of paper. “It’s uh- the thing.”

“The thing? Stop being so fuckin’ cryptic and gimme it straight, what is it?”

“Pfft,” Ian scoffed and grinned like a dope. “You never like anything straight.”

Mickey could see past his nervous laugh and terrible joke that that was an attempt to calm himself, so he let the awful gay joke slide and beckoned him to sit and tell him what was up. As Ian sat down, Mickey put his smoke down on the ashtray and looked at Ian, showing him that this was one of those occasions where he truly had his full attention.

Ian stuttered as he tried to speak and violently shook his head as he failed. Mickey reassuringly stroked his arm and carefully took the letter from his tense hands.

Mickey read it. Then again. And just to be entirely sure, he read it a third time. Part of him wanted to laugh at it, because it seemed a pretty stupid thing for him to get so worked up about. But the other part of him understood why Ian was so nervous and scared to tell him.

Ian’s next words caused Mickey’s heart to ache painfully and the corners of his eyes stung harshly with tears. “I understand if you want to leave me.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, but I really enjoyed writing some heated fucking with bonus bottom Ian, and then switching it up to some nicer shit and then some good ol' cuddling and apologising. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Sorry that it was a little later to upload than I intended.


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven

“Ian, I’m not going to leave you,” Mickey said and kissed him to reassure him. “Ever.”

Ian sighed sadly into the kiss. “I- I called the number and they said - they said,” Ian stammered, eyes looking anywhere but Mickey. “They said the lowest they could do is three hundred a month.”

Mickey nodded slowly. He didn’t need to do the maths to know that they didn’t have that kind of money free every month.

Mickey reached up and wiped away a stray tear on Ian’s cheek with his thumb. “Don’t cry, that’s really gay.”

Ian managed a chuckle at that. “I’ve only figured out two solutions and they’re both kind of shit.”

“All legal?” Mickey asked, because no matter how desperate they got, they had Wolf now and they couldn’t risk anything stupid.

“Yeah, yeah. My first one is to go back to the club.”

“The club?”

“The _strip_ club - in Boys Town. I could still work at the Alibi and just earn extra money a couple of nights a week stripping.” 

“No. No! You’re not workin’ at some fuckin’ strip joint and getting your ass touched by some old fuckin’ queens. No way,” Mickey retorted. No fucking way was he going to let his beautiful boyfriend get naked for some old fags. No way.

Ian shrugged and nodded. “Option two is, well, option two is more desirable I guess.”

“Mhm, shoot.”

“Get a job as an EMT.”

Mickey thought for a moment. “Like, in the ambulances?”

“Yeah, emergency medical technician. I was talking to a friend and she said there’s this training course I could do that only lasts three months and at the end I’m guaranteed the job.”

Ian was smiling now. It wasn’t hard for Mickey to see that Ian liked this option. But there was something odd about it. Ian had said all the options were shit but, this one seemed perfect and Ian seemed so into it.

“I did the math, and I’d get paid so much more than I do working at the bar. I’d be able to pay that extra three hundred, I’d even be able to put more than a dollar a week into the savings.”

“That - that sounds pretty fuckin’ good,” Mickey smiled. “You wanna do that?”

“Yeah,” Ian grinned at him. “I really do. It’ll feel like I’m really making something out of my life, helping people and shit. You understand?”

“Yeah,” Mickey kissed Ian’s cheek. “I thought you said all your solutions were shit?”

Ian’s smile faltered. He looked down and bit his lip whilst he fiddled with his hands on his lap. “The training is three months, it’s paid training though.”

“That’s fine, it’ll just be like you’re at work. Yeah?”

Ian sighed sadly. “It won’t be.”

“What? Of course it will.”

“It won’t,” Ian repeated. “The training’s in Albany.”

Mickey took a moment to process what he’d said. Albany. “Alba- fuckin’ New York?”

Ian nodded, his eyes still unable to meet Mickey’s.

“New York’s a whole ‘nother fuckin’ timeline!”

“Timezone,” Ian corrected, even though he caught how distressed Mickey looked. “The job’s still in Chicago but I got to do the training over there.”

“I - fuckin’ - no!”

“Mickey, please. It’s just a few months, and then it’ll be worth it,” Ian pleaded.

Mickey rubbed his face angrily and stood up from the bed.

“Mick!” Ian called after him as he stormed out of the room. Ian groaned and jumped out of the bed to follow after him.

He found him in the bathroom. He was sat with his back against the bath. He looked calmer than before but didn’t smile or really acknowledge Ian as he sat down beside him.

“The job’s still in Chicago,” Ian continued, wanting to give Mickey reassurance that this would be a good thing. “It’s just three months I have to spend in Albany to do training.”

“Just three months,” Mickey scoffed.

“Exactly. It’s three months. It’ll fly by, Mickey. And it’ll all be worth. I’ll have a much better job, more money and shit. We might even be able to move out together and get a place with an extra bedroom for Wolf. That’ll be nice, won’t it?”

Mickey didn’t want to admit it. He knew how good this was. It was only three months and those three months would end up being so worth it. They had been saving up to move out anyway and if Ian got the EMT job, it’d give them that push they needed to be able to afford to move out.

“I can show you how to use Skype,” Ian said, smiling a little as Mickey rest his head down on his shoulder. “We can talk every day.”

“I - I can’t look after Wolf on my own, I’m such a fuckin’ shit parent.”

“No way, Mickey. You’re amazing. Plus my family’s always up to help if it gets hard or you need help, anything.”

Mickey moved his head in a half-arsed nod as his mind exploded with all this information. Part of him wanted to just fucking scream. It was too much. Ian would be gone for three whole fucking months. Sure, he’d gone twenty one years without him, three months couldn’t be that hard, right? 

The other part of him was trying to be optimistic. Mickey wasn’t a natural born optimist, no, optimism wasn’t a Milkovich trait. But he tried so hard to think about the impact this would have on their future. It was pretty good.

“Like I said, it’s paid, so I’ll still be able to send money for rent and shit.”

Mickey didn’t reply again and just kept listening to Ian.

“It’s a two hour flight that they pay for to get there. So that really does mean we won’t be able to meet up because we really, really can’t afford to buy plane tickets and shit, no matter how much we miss each other.”

Mickey continued to just think about this whole thing. Three months. Three months. Three months. He thought over and over in his head as he tried to relentlessly convince himself that that was such an insignificant amount of time. Ian would be back before he knew it.

“They need the answer by tomorrow, though. The flight leaves on Tuesday.”

That suddenly made things a hundred times harder. It was Saturday. And Ian was talking about leaving for three months on Tuesday.

That wasn’t enough time to process it. That wasn’t enough time to memorise every tiny detail, every perfect inch of Ian’s body before he left. That wasn’t enough time!

“Please, say something,” Ian mumbled.

“You’ve got to make the decision, not me.”

Mickey couldn’t bring himself to tell him to go, because he knew that when he missed him whilst he was gone, he would only blame himself.

“I know, I know, I just can’t leave knowing you’re not happy,” Ian sighed as his fingers traced Mickey’s arm and shoulder.

Mickey exhaled sadly. “I’m not fuckin’ happy about it. But I know how much it’ll be good after.”

“Just three months and then just think, it’ll all be worth it.”

“Mhm,” Mickey murmured and lifted his head from Ian’s shoulder to look up at him.

“I can’t leave knowing you don’t want me to go,” Ian said.

Mickey kissed him gently. He kissed him softly again with a little more feeling than the first kiss. He thought about those fucking lips and how much he’d miss them, but he knew he shouldn't let that be a reason to prevent Ian from pursuing this.

Mickey nodded, slowly but surely, and said, “I want you to do it.”

“Really?” Ian asked because despite what he wanted to believe, he couldn't always figure Mickey Milkovich out.

“Yeah, Gallagher. As much as I'll miss your ginger ass and as hard as it's gonna be to look after Wolf, it's gonna be so fuckin’ worth it.”

Ian smiled and nodded because yeah, it will be worth it.

“Thank you,” Ian sighed. “I really want to do this.”

“Three months,” Mickey sighed a while later. “Three months with no sex?”

“Oh no, how'll you cope, Mickey?” Ian sarcastically said, poking Mickey in the side.

Mickey scoffed. “How will _I_ cope! Pfft, how will _you_ cope?”

“Skype sex?”

“Classy.”

Neither of them were quite sure how to feel in that moment.

There was excitement and happiness as Ian was pursuing a new job with more pay so that meant a much brighter future. But then there was the sadness, the pain, it was a long time to be away from each other and it'd be hard.

They spent that night cuddled up and tangled in each other in bed. Ian happily ranted about the job and the training, because even if they were going to be apart and that’d be sad, it was still exciting, there was still good things about this whole situation.

Mickey listened to him because he wanted to remember every little quirk, every little note in his voice, everything. Fuck, it’s three months, not like he’s dying or anything! Mickey knew he was probably being a little dramatic because they’d be able to talk and Skype and he wasn’t going to be gone forever. Mickey was happy for him, he really was.

On Sunday, Ian dressed up for the interview. It was a formality, really, because he was guaranteed the place anyway.

Mickey sat on the sofa, nervously chewing his fingernails, occasionally throwing glances at Wolf sleeping in a mess of blankets on the floor just to check he was in fact sleeping a not dead (because Mickey worried like that).

A selfish part of Mickey wanted Ian to come through that door and say he didn't get the place. But then what would happen? They would still have the medical bills and no other option except for him to go stripping again and Mickey believed so strongly that was the worse option because there's all sorts of shit in those clubs: drugs, creeps, rapists, excessive booze, touchy feely customers, even the fucking floor makes the list because that shit’s probably nasty as fuck.

There's still that part of him that's proud. It’s hard not to be proud when you're gorgeous and perfect boyfriend goes on and on about how excited he his about this job and how he's going to be helping and saving people. Mickey smirked a little because already had some pretty good blowjobs planned to thank him for all his hard work.

The door opened and Mickey turned his head to see that beautiful redhead with a sad smile on his face.

Ian nodded slowly as he walked in and shut the door behind him. “I got in.”

Mickey stood up from the sofa and walked over to Ian by the door. He wrapped his arms around his body, holding him in a tight hug. Then he pulled away just enough to kiss him and tell him well done, he’s proud.

“Hey,” Ian said with a smirk now forming on his lips. “Seeing as we won’t be able to fuck for three months… wanna drop Wolf with Debbie and we can make love all we want?”

“Make love?” Mickey scoffed, even though he did believe that sometimes that’s what they did. “Fine. What’s that, thirty hours of fuckin’?”

“Yep,” Ian nodded and grinned as he rushed over to pick up the bundle of blankets with Wolf in.

“Hurry the fuck back,” Mickey said as he chucked the car keys at Ian.

“Enjoy being sexually frustrated without me,” Ian grinned and left.

And be sexually frustrated Mickey did. He was fucking restless. He paced for a bit, sat on the sofa for a bit, drank some beer, paced some more, and finally settled on the sofa again.

As arduous and difficult as this would be, he was proud. HE WAS FUCKING PROUD OF HIS AMAZING AND PERFECT FUCKING CARROT TOP!

Ian always talked about excitement in his life, something different. Getting out of bartending and into this job was definitely something different, and Mickey knew just how happy that’d make Ian.

Ian was getting shit done, and maybe that made Mickey feel a little insecure because he'd still be a bartender with shitty pay and be - what he believed - a bad parent. He tried not to dwell on that, he tried not think about how much better Ian would be than him, fuck, he'd be nothing compared to Ian.

Mickey shook his head aggressively to try and get those thoughts out of his head. _They love each other_.

Twenty minutes later, Ian was back home. He walked in and sat beside Mickey on the sofa.

“As hard as this shit’s gonna be,” Mickey started, “I want you know that I’m fuckin’ proud of you. You’re gonna be a fuckin’ awesome - uh - BFG?”

“EMT,” Ian corrected and chuckled at him. “But next to you, I kinda am a big friendly giant.”

“Fuck off, I ain’t short.” Nobody calls Mickey Milkovich out on his vertical problem, _nobody_ , not without getting fucking punched in the face. Ian was the exception. He always was the exception.

“Sure you’re not, and I don’t have red hair.”

Mickey wanted to go tell him to fuck off again, but Ian’s hand was firm on his thigh and it kind of made Mickey forget how to form words.

“Thank you,” Ian said, completely seriously. “I’m excited.”

“I’m happy for you,” Mickey also replied seriously, because he seriously was happy for him.

“Couch, bed, shower, bed?” Ian whispered in his ear.

Mickey didn’t need to ask what that list was about. He jumped off the sofa and stood in front of Ian, nudging his knees apart so he could stand closer.

“You should be the one giving me a show, since you’re dressed all fancy like that,” Mickey gestured to Ian’s attire (bottle green shirt and dark slacks). Mickey was simply wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, but he could still _try_ to give Ian a show.

Mickey started with his t-shirt. He pulled it slowly off his body and then tossed it to the side. Ian had danced for him a couple times, so Mickey may have picked up a move or two. He placed a hand on either side of chest and slowly slid them down his torso, stopping at the waistband of his pants.

“Learnt from the best,” Mickey winked at Ian.

He slid his thumb under the band, pulling his pants out a little before letting it go and hitting his skin with a slight snap. 

Ian gaped at him for a moment in absolute awe. Then his hands went to his own trousers to undo the button, pull down the zipper, and pull down his underwear just enough to get out his quickly hardening cock.

“Suck it,” Ian commanded, his voice low and husky with lust.

Mickey had never dropped to his knees so fast in his whole life.

He wrapped a hand around the base and stroked the underside with a little pressure. Mickey stroked his hand all the way to the top of his boyfriend’s sizable cock and teased the tip with his thumb, rubbing precome around the head.

“Go on,” Ian encouraged, stroking Mickey’s hair gently.

Mickey looked up to him and licked his plump lips before turning back to his dick. He kissed the head wetly and then stretched his lips to accommodate him as he pushed further down, taking more into his mouth.

Ian’s hands gripped Mickey’s hair tightly as he pushed his head down and thrust his hips up. Mickey relaxed so Ian could take charge and fuck his face at his own pace.

Mickey was so hard in his own pants that he just had to touch himself. He released a hand from Ian’s thigh and moved it into his sweatpants, sighing (as well as he could with a dick in his mouth) at the contact.

Ian noticed and grunted, “no, no. Get up here. Ride me, baby”

Fuck, Ian was so hot and commanding, Mickey just couldn’t say no to that. That, and the fact that he _really needed_ that cock inside of him right now.

He quickly yanked his sweatpants off .(Mickey being Mickey had gone commando.) Ian shoved his hand down the side of the couch to get the lube they kept there and smirked at Mickey standing beautiful and naked in front of him.

“Turn around and bend down a little,” Ian said and Mickey did as he was told.

Mickey only had wait a couple of seconds before Ian pushed a slicked up finger into his hole, causing him to gasp and push his ass towards him.

“More,” he gasped out, needy to be stretched open for the redhead’s cock.

Ian didn't spend too much time opening him up and preparing him, because he liked how tight Mickey could be around him, and Mickey _loved_ the pleasurable burn when Ian stretched him out with his cock.

“You think you're good, Mick?” Ian asked, less demanding than before because he does want Mickey to he OK.

“Mhm,” Mickey turned around and sat himself down on Ian’s lap.

He was a little annoyed that Ian was still in his clothes because he liked to touch his warm skin, he just had to settle for his the little skin he could touch (his neck, his face, his dick).

Ian's hips bucked up a little, his cock rubbed slickly against Mickey’s thigh. Mickey gave him a kiss, biting Ian's lip, before he pulled away and sat down on his cock.

“Fuck me!” Mickey near yelped as he sank down on Ian’s cock, filling himself up quickly.

“You good?”

Mickey nodded as he bit his lip. He raised himself up so Ian’s cock was almost all out of him, before he dropped down again, muttering curses under his breath. Ian placed one of his hands on Mickey’s chest to thumb with a nipple and make him whimper and gasp. He placed his other hand on Mickey’s hip to hold him firmly and help him.

Mickey’s rode Ian enough to probably be qualified as an expert. He lifts his hips up perfectly, the way he looks is such a beautiful sight as he pants Ian’s name, he’s just so shockingly confident when he’s on top and Ian fucking loves it.

After a while, Mickey started to shake his head. “Stop, stop,” he said, getting off Ian.

“Huh, you OK, Mick?” Ian looked up at Mickey.

“Bend me over the fuckin’ arm,” Mickey said as he moved to the side of the sofa. “Please, Ian.”

Ian was kind of frozen for a moment before Mickey shouting at him to _hurry the fuck up_ woke him from his daze.

Ian stood up too and pulled Mickey close to him for a searing kiss with tongue and teeth grazing their mouths. They exchanged a smirk as Ian turned Mickey around. He pushed the top of his back and grabbed his hips, almost tripping him off his feet, to pull his body out a little and bend him over the arm of the sofa.

“Mm,” Mickey moaned as Ian pushed his hot cock inside of him. “ _Ian_.”

Ian held onto Mickey’s hips as he picked up his pace, thrusting in and out of his gorgeous and needy boyfriend.

“Harder, fuck,” Mickey groaned, pushing his ass back for Ian.

Ian panted and pulled Mickey’s hips back to meet his thrusts. “God, I’m gonna miss your ass.”

“Don’t be - fuck - don’t be gettin’ all fuckin’ sentimental whilst we’re fuckin’,” Mickey hissed out.

“Sorry, sorry, I just love you so much, Mickey.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, just fuckin’ _touch me_ ,” Mickey begged. He’d rather get his brains fucked out right now than talk about feelings and shit.

Ian let one hand drop from Mickey’s hip to grab his dick and stroke him, slightly out of time with his thrusts, but judging by the obscenities Mickey was moaning, he wasn’t too bothered.

When Mickey arched back and moaned _Ian_ , Ian was fucking gone. His thrusts froze as he came inside of Mickey. Mickey followed too as soon as he felt Ian stop, pulsing on that perfect spot inside of him.

They stilled for a moment, apart from the heaving of their chests as they caught their breath. Ian pulled out and they both collapsed down onto the sofa.

Ian rest his head down onto Mickey’s shoulder and sighed. Mickey stroked his hand through the redhead’s hair. They stayed like that for a while.

“I’ll miss you too,” Mickey whispered eventually. “I mean, look,” he said, lifting up his hand to show Ian. “Look at my fingers!”

“I am looking at your fingers, why am I looking at you fingers?” Ian let out a small laugh.

“They don’t compare to your fuckin’ cock, Red,” Mickey laughed with a cheeky fucking grin on his face, even though he was completely serious. His boyfriend had a fucking amazing cock, OK?

“Yeah, guess not,” Ian gently grabbed Mickey’s hand and placed four small kisses on his knuckles. F. U. C. K.

“Where’s next on the list,” Mickey ignored how Ian’s soft action made his stomach fucking flutter.

“Mm, bed?”

“Let’s go,” Mickey eagerly said as he jumped from the sofa, taking one of Ian’s hands to walk with him.

Ian smiled and slapped Mickey’s bare ass. Mickey just couldn’t scold him about it though, not when he was grinning stupidly like that.

They watzed into the bedroom, and toppled onto the bed, Mickey on his back with Ian hovering above him showering him in quick, soft kisses. Mickey placed a hand on Ian’s jaw to tilt his head away from his shoulder and to kiss him hard.

They kissed again. And again. And again.

Their smiles faded.

They sighed sadly and looked into each other’s eyes, ignoring the tears that threatened and reddened their eyes.

“I fuckin’ love you,” Mickey managed to choke out, trying to stop himself from crying because Mickey Milkovich was fucking stronger than that.  
“I’ll be back before you know it,” Ian soothed as he stroked Mickey’s cheek.

“I know, I know, it’s just-” he took a deep breath and let out a long exhale. “I just don’t feel like I show you or tell you enough that I love you.”

“No, no, you do, I know you love me.”

Mickey lifted his head up to kiss Ian again.

“Hey,” Ian said. “Don’t cry. _That’s really gay_ ,” he chuckled, imitating Mickey’s words.

“Fuck you,” Mickey said back, a smile now on his face.

Ian leaned down and bit Mickey’s lip before looking up and asking, “shower? Maybe you could fuck me if you want?”

“You like bottoming that fuckin’ much, huh?”

Ian shrugged. “Prefer the other way round, but yeah. You got a problem with that?”

“Nope,” Mickey smirked.

Ian jumped off the bed, and Mickey was about to follow, but it seemed like Ian had other plans. That fucker put an arm under Mickey’s legs and another under his back and scooped him up, bridal fucking style.

Mickey rolled his eyes as Ian carried him off to the bathroom with a smug fucking look on his face. “Let me down, bitch,” Mickey found himself fucking giggling, yes, giggling. Mickey Milkovich was giggling. Imagine that!

“Nu-uh, no way,” Ian laughed and spun in a circle, causing Mickey to almost shriek at him. Mickey gently whacked his fists on Ian’s chest until he gave in and let him down.

Ian turned the shower handle and spun back around to Mickey. He ran a finger under the collar of his shirt and raised an eyebrow at Mickey.

“Do I get a show, or…?” Mickey asked.

“Nope,” Ian grinned and then proceeded to attempt to beat the world record for quickest undressing.

Mickey couldn’t help but laugh as Ian rushed to strip himself and ended up getting a leg stuck in one of his pant legs. He hopped a little and almost tripped on the mat before successfully removing his pants.

That wasn’t really the show Mickey wanted, but it really was a show and a half.

After Ian had failed his world record attempt, the shower had heated up enough.

They both stepped in and let out content sighs as hot water trailed their bodies. They took turns standing under the streams to quickly wash away any sweat or come that was still there.

They kissed under the stream of hot water but then Ian started giggling into the kiss.

“What?” Mickey snapped, slightly annoyed.

“So that’s what it’s like to kiss in the rain,” Ian grinned.

“Romantic fuck,” Mickey muttered and lightly thwacked his arm with a wet slap. “How was it then?”

“Hmm. Let’s try it again,” Ian said and kissed him again, longer this time.

“Verdict?” Mickey raised his brow as they pulled apart.

“Wet,” Ian shrugged.

Mickey rolled his eyes and kissed him again. He was right, though. It was wet.

The kiss got deeper. Their hands touched and felt whatever skin they could and Mickey’s hands ended up on Ian’s ass, squeezing each cheek hard as he pressed their bodies firmly together.

Mickey rubbed his hands up and down Ian’s ass, his fingers just squeezing into the crack and everytime they brushed past his hole, Ian bit down a little into the kiss. Ian grabbed one of Mickey’s wrists eventually and squeezed the lube onto his hand before shoving it behind his back again.

Mickey smirked at Ian as he worked a finger into his hole. It only took a couple of crooks and bends of his finger for Ian to be imploring for more.

The angle wasn’t ideal so Mickey had to stop kissing Ian and turn him around. Ian knew what to do, he leant his body forward, ass out, same way that Mickey would stand when they fucked in the shower.

“Fuck,” Ian moaned as Mickey slipped two slick fingers inside of him.

He spread his fingers apart, smirking at the gasp and the way Ian squirmed a little. Mickey pulled his fingers halfway out before shoving them in.

“Ah! More. Fucking more,” Ian begged.

“Needy, needy,” Mickey tutted as he slicked his cock up with his fingers and some more lube.

Mickey held Ian’s hips as he lined himself up. He pushed in all the way, not too slowly, but slow enough to stretch Ian out nicely.

“Fuck,” Mickey groaned. Sure, Mickey much preferred to bottom. But fucking hell. Ian was hot and tight around him, it was fucking amazing.

Once he bottomed out, he gave Ian a moment to adjust. Then he pulled almost completely out, just leaving the head inside of Ian’s tight hole, before jolting his hips forward.

“Mick, fuck!” he loudly gasped and shoved his ass back to meet Mickey’s quick thrusts.

Mickey thrust hard and quick a couple of times before he stopped entirely. He looked down at the way Ian fucked himself back on his cock.

“Fuckin’ hell, Ian,” Mickey murmured, just the sight of him was making that familiar heat pool at the bottom of his stomach and he knew he was getting close.

He took control again, one hand on Ian’s hip to steady him, the other hand to adeptly stroke and tug at Ian’s cock.

“ _Mickey_ ,” Ian breathed heavily as he came all over the shower wall and into Mickey’s hand still working his cock through his release.

Mickey came just two thrusts later and leant forward to bite where Ian’s neck met his shoulder.

When Mickey pulled out and Ian turned around and straightened himself up, they exchanged smirks before kissing passionately again.

They finished in the shower and dried themselves before pulling on underwear and heading to the kitchen. They were both fucking hungry now.

Mickey ate a pot of jello, ignoring Ian’s complaints that that wasn’t “substantial enough food”.

“Hypocrite,” Mickey rolled his eyes as Ian decided to eat some Skittles.

“Whatever,” Ian grinned and kissed Mickey’s cheek.

It was late now. Past the middle of the night. Twenty four hours. In twenty four hours, it would be Tuesday.

They finished their snacking and Ian pulled Mickey into a kiss, because they both realised the time too and what that meant.

“List?” Mickey prompted.

“Bed.”

They resumed their positions from earlier, but this time they were both naked and neither of them were too upset (or at least showing they were upset).

They sighed as they kissed. Ian rolled off him and they got under a sheet, Mickey rolling to his side as they assumed their usual sleeping position.

Ian kissed the back of Mickey’s neck and dropped one of his hands to lazily and slowly jerk Mickey’s cock.

Mickey pushed his dick up into Ian’s hand and gasped when Ian ran his thumb over the head. Ian was hard again too and gently rubbed his cock in between Mickey’s ass cheeks.

It was slow, and gentle, and only lasted a couple minutes, but it had so much feeling in it.

Mickey turned his head as Ian sat himself up enough so they could kiss one last time before falling asleep.

***

The next night was hard.

Ian had packed up. They had put Wolfgang to sleep. They had set their alarms for six so they could drive to the airport and not be late. And they were back in their bed _together_ for the last time for a few months.

They lay on their backs, holding hands and kissing each other softly.

They had said how much they were going to miss each other about a hundred times already, they had said how much they loved each other a hundred times more. There wasn’t much left to say now.

“I love you,” Ian said, and he could say it another hundred times more and he’d still mean it.

“I love you too,” Mickey whispered back.

They moved their bodies closer together and wrapped arms and tangled legs to fall asleep together.

***

This was it.

They were at their airport.

The Gallagher clan and Wolfgang were there as well and they had gotten as far as they could, right up to security, until they got to the point where they had to part.

Mickey grabbed Ian and pulled him into the best fucking hug he could.

“Don’t go soft on me now, Milkovich,” Ian let out a small chuckle as he heard Mickey sniffle.

Mickey scoffed as he pulled back and rubbed his eyes. “I ain’t fuckin’ soft.”

“‘Course you aren’t,” Ian smirked. “You’re my rock, Mickey.”

Mickey managed to smile and laugh a little too. “That’s gay as fuck, Gallagher.” 

Ian sighed. They knew it was time. They hugged again, with Wolf squirming between them and giggling.

“It’s, uh, time. I gotta go,” Ian mumbled. “Can’t be late for the flight.”

“Say goodbye to them first,” Mickey nodded his head towards the Gallaghers.

Mickey watched Ian hug them all and say his goodbyes. Then Ian turned back to him.

“Goodbye, Wolf,” Ian smiled at him and kissed his little forehead.

“Eena!” Wolf giggled and slapped him in the face.

Ian gently placed his hand back on the side of Mickey’s face and on his cheek, using his thumb to wipe away a tear. He hated seeing Mickey sad like that. So he put both his hands on either side of his face and used his thumbs to force his mouth into smile.

“Smile, Mickey,” Ian snickered and when he relaxed his grip, he was glad to see that Mickey was smiling for real now.

“Fuck you, Gallagher,” Mickey laughed, but ended it with a sad sigh. “Text me when you land so I know you ain’t fuckin’ dead or nothin’, yeah?”

“Will do.”

“And you better fuckin’ answer you calls when I call you. And answer my texts. And no fuckin’ some other dudes whilst your there. And don’t be out too late by yourself. And if you need money, ask me first. And always keep your phone and shit close. And-”

“OK! I get it, mom,” Ian chuckled and shut him up with a quick peck to his lips.

“You, uh, ready?”

“Mhm.”

Mickey wasn’t big on affection in public and Ian knew that. Nevertheless, Ian still pulled him into another tight hug that seemed to last an eternity. Mickey reciprocated, holding Ian firmly, not wanting to let go.

They had to let go eventually. They pulled apart and both rubbed at their own eyes, not wanting the other person to see them like that.

“I love you,” Ian gave him a small smile.

Fuck what he thought about affection. Mickey Milkovich was going to kiss his man and no one could fucking stop him.

Ian kissed back almost immediately. Their hands on each other’s neck or back, holding them secure and close.

“I fuckin’ love you too.”

They kissed quickly again and muttered goodbye. Ian turned and walked away, down the corridor.

“EENA! EENA!” Wolf screamed as Ian walked away. They had already talked about this and said it was best that Ian didn’t look back after saying goodbye because Wolf would get upset.

“Shush, shush, Ian’ll be back soon,” Mickey comforted the crying boy.

Mickey watched as he got further away. He tried to fill his mind with the positives. This was a good thing, an exciting thing, they shouldn’t be sad about this. 

“Eena,” Wolf sobbed into Mickey’s shirt as Mickey tried to gently rock him and calm him down.

“Good luck!” Mickey felt the need to shout after him, smiling a little now.

Ian turned around and gave him a classic dopey Ian grin when he saw Mickey was smiling. “Thank you!” He shouted back and earned himself a middle finger from Mickey when he blew a kiss at him. Then he turned the corner and disappeared from his sight.

Mickey let out a shaky sigh and went back to trying to console Wolf. His phone buzzed and he managed to awkwardly reach into his pocket whilst balancing a crying toddler to check the text that just came through.

Ian (9:03): miss you already x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sOrry. Please don't worry though, the few months apart will only be two chapters, I have that planned out. I've got a couple of things planned for whilst they're away (not very angsty though, they're fluffy, cute, and silly). Also, in case you couldn't tell, I wrote quite a bit of smut in this chapter (plus some bonus bottom Ian because it's addicting) to make up for the #feels.
> 
> Imma start replying to comments regularly now because you're all angels and so sweet and I love you thank you <3 Hope you enjoyed the chapter.


	28. Chapter Twenty Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm hella fuckin' busy at the moment, but I didn't want to leave you waiting more than seven days for a chapter so this is what I've got. It's still rounded off like a full chapter but still only about 2k words. Nonetheless, I hope you like the chapter. (Day One, is a continuation from the last chapter, about eight hours after dropping Ian off)

_**Day One** _

“Fifth missed call? Miss me that much already, Mick?” Ian laughed as he _finally_ answered his damn phone.

“You never told me when your fuckin’ flight landed,” Mickey grumbled as a response.

“I told you it was four in the afternoon like a hundred times, Mickey.”

“No you didn’t!” Mickey retorted.

“I did!”

“No you didn’t!”

“Mickey - I did!”

“Not!”

They both sighed. They were bickering like they would if they were together. It was weirdly nice, but it was also a reminder that they weren’t in fact together.

“Fine!” Mickey shouted down the phone.

“Huh?”

Mickey rolled his eyes, even if Ian wasn’t there to see him do so. “Fine, I missed your gay ass.”

“Aw, you’re such a romantic, babe,” Ian chuckled.

“Whatever, Gallagher. What’re you doin’ now?”

“I’m in a taxi on the way to the hotel. Then I’ve gotta go to the training place, meet the people.”

Mickey snorted a little. That’s probably Ian’s fantasy, meeting people, the social shit. “Fuck, I’m kinda glad I ain’t there now.”

“People aren’t that bad, Mickey. All your friends were once strangers.”

“Ew, you sound like one of those fuckin’ uh soccer moms.”

“Excuse you, I _am_ a soccer mom. Gonna take my little angel, Wolf to soccer practice in our SUV and when coach doesn’t let him play, I’m gonna flip out. Then me and my fellow soccer moms are going to have a picnic and bitch about _fucking Linda_ , who didn’t turn up. Then we’re-”

“I fuckin’ get it!” Mickey had to put an end to Ian’s rant. “You’re gonna be a soccer mom. Good for you”

Ian laughed, “You got a problem with me becoming a soccer mom?”

“Yep. Imma have to divorce your soccer mom ass.”

“We already talking divorce, huh?” Ian chuckled, and the proceeded to laugh harder when he heard Mickey choke.

“Fuck off, why’d I wanna be tied down to your ass?” Mickey scoffed at the thought. “Marriage? That’s so gay.”

“I guess it would be kinda gay if I married you.”

“Exactly!” Mickey agreed.

“But then again, when I get my new job, who knows? I’ll be young, hot, and have money. I’ll have a line of ass right out the door.”

Mickey blinked.

Fuck.

Ian was right.

He’d be fucking nothing next to Ian. Ian was right, he’ll be young, hot, and have money. He could easily just leave him for someone better. Fuck Fuck. Fuck.

“Mickey, I was joking,” Ian said after a while of not hearing Mickey. “I love you, Mick. I’m not going to leave you. Married or not.”

“You sure? Cause I will fuckin’ marry you if that’s what you want and it means you ain’t gonna fuck around.”

“I don’t think the marriage conversation is the best for over the phone and when I’m 800 miles away.”

There was silence again for a moment. Mickey knew he was probably just panicking, Ian wouldn’t leave him. He always got panicky and irritable when conversations turned to the future.

“You really 800 miles away, huh?” Mickey sadly asked.

“Yeah, about 820.”

“Ian,” Mickey began, sounding completely serious. “I would walk 500 miles, and fuck, I’d walk 500 more, just to - uh - I don’t know the fuckin’ lyrics. Just to be the one who - fuck, uh, just to be the one to get fucked by you?”

Ian fucking giggled down the phone and Mickey could easily picture that giant fucking grin.

“Much better lyrics, Mick. Thanks for the serenade.”

“You’re welcome,” Mickey laughed, and they went back to being silent, just listening to the other breathing and the odd crackle on the phone.

“There’s, uh, probably going to be a party tonight,” Ian started, sounding somewhat nervous. “Can I go?”

“Fuck you askin’ me for? I’m not your keeper. Go. Party. No fuckin’ other dudes though, or I’ll come over there and cut your fuckin’ dick off, clear?”

“Crystal,” Ian replied and Mickey swore he could hear the redhead grinning. “How’s Wolf?”

“Stopped crying so Imma assume that he’s fine.”

“Good.”

“You want pizza for dinner?” Mickey let slip. There was a pause before Mickey’s brain remembered Ian wasn’t going to be home for dinner for a while. “Sorry,” Mickey muttered quietly.

“It’s alright. I would love some pizza actually. Mm, just curl up on the sofa with you and eat pizza all night, perfect.”

“That’s so gay, Gallagher,” Mickey scoffed.

“Hey!” Ian said, dramatically pretending to be offended. “Don’t kink shame.”

“You have weird fuckin’ kinks, Red.”

“Oh, _I_ have weird kinks. Pretty sure last week you asked me to -”

“AY! I get it, alright! Not down the phone, Red, you never know who’s fuckin’ listening.”

“I’m still up for that, though. I’ll do it when I get back, apologise for leaving the missus at home with blue balls.”

“Whatever, man,” Mickey mumbled. “I don’t need your dick to have a good time. I’m gonna have loads of fun without you.”

“Oh really?”

“Yep, me and Wolf got fuckin’ Puppy Police or some shit, and carrot sticks, and chocolate chip cookies. Don’t need your lame ass, Gallagher.”

“Paw Patrol,” Ian corrected and laughed. “Don’t need me, huh? Guess I’ll hang up then. Leave you to your Puppy Police and snacks. Bye!”

“No! Ian!” Mickey shouted, not wanting him to leave.

“Joking! I wasn’t actually going to leave.”

“Yeah, I knew that.”

Mickey heard some fumbling on the other side of the line and then Ian sighed sadly. “Almost at the hotel. I probably won’t be able to talk much tonight, party and all.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll fuckin’ cope.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, mom,” Mickey snickered.

“You remember how to use Skype so we can do it tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t forget Deb’s at dance tomorrow so Mandy’s taking Wolf.”

“Yep.”

“I wrote a shopping list and left it by the microwave, don’t forget that.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t stay up too late or you’ll be really exhausted during the day with Wolf, OK?”

“Sure.”

“Mickey?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Mickey sighed. Fuck. He could listen to Ian say that all day every day and that fucking fuzzy feeling and fucking warmth in his stomach wouldn't go away.

“I gotta go now, you gonna be OK?” Ian asked and Mickey could hear the slam of the car door meaning he’d gotten to the hotel.

“Yeah yeah.”

“Goodbye, Mickey. I love youuu,” Ian cooed down the phone.

“Mhm,” Mickey was kind of glad Ian wasn’t there to see him blush like that because he’d fucking tease him about it. “I love you too.”

“Iloveyoumore,” Ian quickly said before he hung up. That fucker.

Mickey was fine to leave the conversation at that, but he knew how much Ian would appreciate a cheesy ass message.

(Mickey 17:05): i love u most

(Ian 17:06): who are you and what have you done with my mickey?

(Mickey 17:06): fuck you x

(Ian 17:07): ur back! ily x

Mickey let out a grumpy exhale. He was starting to feel like some whipped bitch. Fuck’s sake, Ian had only been gone eight fucking hours and Mickey was sat on the sofa pouting about it.

“Dada?” Wolfgang giggled and tried to climb up Mickey’s legs.

“Hey, little Wolf,” Mickey smiled, deciding that Wolf was a perfect distraction from missing Ian.

He picked Wolf up and onto his lap and he squealed happily when it meant he was close enough to punch his tiny fists into his Dada’s chest.

“You wanna watch Puppy Police, huh?” Mickey ruffled his son’s soft, dark hair as he switched the TV on.

Wolf wasn't really watching the show, but Mickey kept it on as some background noise. He crawled laps on the sofa before settling back on Mickey’s lap to cry.

OK. He could this. Easy. Step one, does the kid need changing? Mickey held him up and sniffed. Nah. Conclusion: get this kid some cookies.

“Cookies?” Mickey held the packet up.

“Cookie! Cookie!” Wolfgang stopped his little tantrum and reached for the chocolate chip cookies.

Mickey grinned, satisfied because that moment kind of made him feel like a less shit parent than he believed he was.

After Wolf was finished with his cookies - and making a big, crumbly mess - he yawned and snuggled his little body up to Mickey. Mickey smiled and gently stroked Wolf’s hair and cheek. Once Wolf was asleep, Mickey picked him up and placed him gently in his crib and switched the TV off so he wouldn’t wake up.

Mickey wasn't quite sure what to do next. He didn’t really want to go to bed, not just because it was only half six, there was something else. He knew the sheets would be cold and he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep without Ian. He’d spent the odd night without Ian before and slept fine, but it was more than that. Those nights he got to sleep knowing he’d be wrapped in pale, freckled arms the next night. Now he’ll have to sleep knowing he’s got ninety days - ninety fucking days! - until those arms are holding him again.

He shook his head, trying to deny how much he needed Ian. He padded off to the kitchen for some beer. He took the six pack out of the fridge and sat back on the sofa. He knew he shouldn’t really be drinking with the kid, but just one beer couldn’t hurt.

One beer turned to two, and two turned in to four and Mickey had to wobble off to the kitchen to put the rest of the beers back to stop himself from drinking anymore. He was hurting, and at least with the alcohol, he hurt less.

It was almost midnight now, Mickey had the TV playing quietly, Wolf was sleeping, and Mickey lay on the sofa, his mind on Ian. It was one in the morning where Ian was, Mickey guessed the party would be over since they start training tomorrow, and Ian would probably be jet lagged or some shit, even with a one hour time zone difference. It’d be selfish to call him, but Mickey was kind of drunk and wasn’t really thinking.

“Heeey,” Mickey said as he heard Ian grunt as he answered his phone.

“Mick, it’s one in the fucking morning, I gotta be up at eight.”

“Mhm, but I missed you babe,” Mickey whimpered.

“Mick- babe?” Ian questioned because Mickey very, very rarely used the nickname. “Are you fucking drunk?” Ian sounded less groggy from waking up and was now sounding angry.

Mickey detected the anger in his voice and knew he’d fucked up. “No?”

“Mickey, you can’t get fucking drunk when you’re in charge of Wolf. What if he needs something and you’re too pissed to do anything and he gets hurt, then you gotta explain that you couldn’t help him because you were drunk. You know what happens then, they’ll whisk him away.”

“Aw, Ian, babe, no, I’m not drunk. I just miss you.”

“I know when you’re drunk.”

“I had one fuckin’ beer!”

“Just one?”

Mickey grumbled, “Yes.”

“Mickey!”

“Fine, fine, princess! I’m fuckin’ drunk.”

“That’s so fucking irresponsible,” Ian hissed.

“Babe, baby, I just miss you,” Mickey sniffed, getting emotional now from the beer and feeling all too sad at Ian’s angry tone.

“No, no, no, don’t start fucking crying. I’m not giving you any sympathy.”

Mickey sniffled again and rubbed his eyes, “Not gonna fuckin’ cry.”

“Mick, you can’t get drunk when you’re looking after Wolf.”

“I know, I know,” Mickey started crying more, actual tears, fuck, he was a bit more drunk than he thought. “I just can’t even go into our fuckin’ room. I need you here, babe, holding me and kissing me.”

Ian sighed, “You still shouldn’t have gotten drunk.”

“Yeah, yeah, come home.”

“Mickey-”

“I know! I just need you.”

“It’s the first night, Mick. You’re already drunk and crying, fuck, I thought you said you could cope?”

“I can! It’s the alcohol talking.”

Ian yawned loudly, “It’s one in the morning.”

“Do you miss me?” Mickey self-consciously asked.

“Of course I do.”

Mickey rubbed away his tears. Mickey fucking Milkovich was fucking crying over the phone, drunk and sad and missing his boyfriend. God, that redhead had turned him soft.

“Sorry,” Mickey said, feeling so deflated.

“It’s OK.”

“You can go back to sleep now, sorry.”

“Thank you. I love-”

Mickey hung up before he heard Ian finish his sentence. He felt he didn’t deserve to be loved him. Fuck. How the fuck was he going to cope?


	29. Chapter Twenty Nine

_**Day Four** _

Mickey had been sober since that little incident. Four whole days sober. Not even the odd sip of beer at work. Mickey’s certain he has never gone more than a couple of days without a sip of _something_ since the age of twelve. Despite his sobriety, he’s been feeling a lot more confident and better now. It’s kind of set in that Ian will be gone a while, but as long as he repeats to himself that this is temporary and for the best, he manages, he copes.

It was a Saturday afternoon and Mickey had no work today so, unlike usual, he wasn’t building up to dropping Wolf off with Debbie or his sister then heading to work. Instead, he was relaxed and spending some quality time with Wolfgang that he didn’t even realise he _needed_.

They went out with Auntie Mandy in the late morning for some pancakes, and Wolf got so much syrup on himself that Mickey went through ten baby wipes trying to de-stickify his son. Then they hung out in the park for some of the nice spring air until Mandy had to leave and Wolf cried because he was bored.

Now, Mickey was running a warm, shallow bath, with some baby bubble bath added. It was a dangerous experiment, really. Ian usually gave Wolf a bath and Mickey had heard how this kid cries at just the mention of a bath.

Mickey put on a pair of shorts and held Wolf carefully as they both sat in the bath.

It was tense for a moment. Mickey saw Wolf’s face scrunch up when he sat in the water and he braced himself for the screaming. Except, he didn't scream. Wolf giggled and splashed the bubbles.

Mickey let out a sigh of relief and chuckled at his son. “You like the bubbles, ay?” Mickey asked and scooped some of the bubbles to blow into the air.

“Yeah, yeah!” Wolf clapped the bubbles in his hand.

He gently washed Wolf with the baby wash and let him play with the bubbles in the bath until the water got cold and it was time for their dinner.

Mickey gave him a clean diaper and clean pyjamas and held him on his hip as he heated up some mac ‘n’ cheese.

When they sat down on the sofa and played some cartoons, Wolf started to fuss.

“No!” Wolf stubbornly said and refused to open his mouth for some food.

“Come on, Wolf, open up,” Mickey pushed the plastic spoon against his mouth, but he was having none of it.

“No! No!” Wolf shook his head and tried to scramble away.

“Come on, Wolf, eat!” Mickey tried to keep calm but Wolf was screaming now. Fuck! They had been doing so well until now.

“No! No! No!” Wolf cried and smacked the spoon away, sending cheese sauce flying.

“Eat. The. Fuckin’. Food,” Mickey said through gritted teeth, attempting to not let Wolf know he was getting pissed off real quick.

Wolf kept crying and refusing to eat.

Mickey huffed and got his phone out. Ian would know what to do.

“Everything alright, Mick?” Ian asked as he answered the phone and instantly heard the crying in the background.

“He won’t eat,” Mickey answered.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you fuckin’ think I mean? Wolf’s being fuckin’ stubborn and won’t eat his fuckin’ mac ‘n’ cheese,” he explained.

Ian laughed.

“Fuck you laughing for? It’s not fuckin’ funny. Help!”

“You gotta make train noises,” Ian said like it was the most obvious thing ever.

“Train - train noises? The fuck’s that gonna do?”

“It’ll work, trust me.”

Mickey couldn’t fucking believe this. Train noises? How the fuck would that work? Fuck, he was going to sound so stupid. Maybe Ian was trying to prank him or some shit.

“Whatever, I’ll try it,” Mickey gave in.

He got another spoon of the macaroni and turned to Wolf.

“No!” Wolf cried before Mickey even got the chance to do anything.

“Hey, hey! Open up for the train,” Mickey tried. “Choo, choo!” He made little train sounds as he moved the spoon towards his mouth.

His crying stopped and he stared at the spoon heading towards his mouth. Mickey continued to make the ‘choo choo’ sounds, even adding a ‘chugga chugga choo choo’ in there.

Ian was fucking magical.

Wolf opened his mouth and calmly ate the macaroni like he hadn’t been screaming bloody murder about it thirty seconds ago.

“What the fuck, Ian?” Mickey was shocked.

“Choo, choo!” Ian imitated, laughing loudly. “Fuck, I wish I was there to watch that.”

Mickey continued to feed Wolf until he started to protest again. Mickey figured he’d ate enough, so he placed the rest of the food on the table and held Wolf in his lap as fell asleep.

“You still there?” Ian asked as he heard the other end of the line go quiet.

“Yeah, man, just putting Wolf to bed,” Mickey quietly replied.

He placed Wolf carefully in his bed before he lay down on the sofa, kicking his legs up and getting comfy.

“I’m fuckin’ beat,” Mickey yawned.

“It’s like seven pm in Chicago?”

“Busy day,” Mickey shrugged because it really had been a busy day, and that whole tantrum from Wolf had worn him out.

“Yeah? What you been up to?”

Mickey smiled a little. Telling his boyfriend how his day has been and what he’s been up to? That’s sickeningly domestic, really, but fucking hell, Mickey loved it.

Mickey described his day to Ian, told him about going out with Mandy, the pancakes, the bath, the whole day. Ian listened and smiled sadly to himself. He was happy that Mickey had had such a good day, but sad he wasn’t there to enjoy it with him.

“I wish I was there,” Ian sighed.

“Yeah, me too.”

“Where are you now?”

“Uh, the sofa?”

“I thought you were getting ready to go to sleep?”

“I am?”

“Then why are you on the sofa?”

Ah, shit.

Four days and Mickey still hadn’t been able to get to sleep in _their_ bed, let alone get under the sheets.

“I’ve been sleeping on the sofa,” Mickey confessed quietly.

“Why?” Ian sighed.

“Convenience,” Mickey liked, but Ian wasn’t convinced.

“Mick, stop being so pathetic, and sleep on our bed,” Ian laughed a little down the phone, because really, Mickey Milkovich, the man that believes he’s the coolest thug in the whole of Chicago, won’t sleep in his bed because his boyfriend isn’t there.

“I’m not bein’ fuckin’ pathetic,” Mickey grumbled and left the sofa, realising that maybe he was being a little pathetic.

“Besides,” Ian started, “What I wanna show you isn’t really appropriate if you’re in the same room as the kid.”

Mickey picked up his pace towards the bedroom at that. Now he was fucking intrigued.

“What you gonna show me, huh?” Mickey asked as he closed the bedroom door behind him.

“Get the laptop.”

Mickey groaned at that.

They had been trying since Ian had left to work Skype. Mickey was fucking hopeless with the damn laptop. He knew how to get porn on it (and cat videos, not that he’d ever left anyone know that) and that was about it. Skype was “fuckin’ stupid” anyway, not Mickey’s fault that the programme is stupid.

“Come on, Mick, I’ll walk you through it,” Ian offered and waited as Mickey loaded up the computer.

“OK, I opened the Skype thing,” Mickey said as he clicked the blue and white S logo. “Login? I don’t fuckin’ know.”

“I made you an account last night. The username is mickeymilkovichsucks.”

“Fuck you, that’s not my fuckin’ username.”

“It is now,” Ian chuckled. “Password is Ianisthebest69.”

“Well ain’t you just a fuckin’ comedian,” Mickey rolled his eyes when he pressed enter and it logged in to a legit account.

“Hell, yeah I am! Now, I’m going to call you. Press the _green_ phone when my name pops up.”

“OK,” Mickey nodded, turns out this was easier than he’d thought.

Ian’s dorky face popped up and two buttons. Two buttons with little phones on, one green, one red, easy.

“Shit, where’d you go?” Mickey squinted at the screen when he pressed the phone and Ian disappeared.

“You hung up!” Ian accused.

“No, I fuckin’ didn’t! I pressed the green phone!”

“Clearly you didn’t! Look, I’m going to call you again, press the green phone! I’m gonna hang up this one as well.”

Mickey huffed and waited a few more seconds until Ian popped up again. This time, it worked, and he successfully answered the call.

Ian’s dopey grin and bright red hair appeared on the screen.

Mickey had only been able to see Ian in the selfies he sent him every few hours, but this was realtime Ian, looking as gorgeous as ever. Mickey felt so warm and fucking fuzzy, fuck it if it sounded cheesy, Mickey really did have butterflies in his stomach at the sight of his beautiful boyfriend.

“Ay, I can see you, beautiful boyfriend” Mickey smiled at the screen.

“And I can see you,” Ian smiled back, blushing like mad at Mickey addressing him as his beautiful boyfriend.

“You can? Fuck,” Mickey dodged his body out of the frame.

“That’s the point, Mick. Why you hiding?”

“My hair’s a mess,” Mickey admitted.

Ian rolled his eyes at his boyfriend, “I don’t give a fuck what your hair looks like, Mickey, you should know that.”

Mickey came back into the frame and tried to pat down the odd bit of hair that was sticking up, silently cursing Wolf and his love for grabbing people’s hair.

“You look cute,” Ian stated, smiling softly at Mickey.

“Man, I ain’t fuckin’ cute,” Mickey pouted.

“Fine, you look adorable,” he snickered.

“Gallagher-“ Mickey tried to threaten him, but there’s not much you can do when your eight hundred miles away from the person whose teeth you wanna knock outta their skull. “Whatever! How’s your day been?”

“Good day, pretty busy. Weather’s really nice but it’s actually pretty warm in this room,” Ian smirked a little.

“Oh yeah?” Mickey raised his brow, hoping that this was about to go somewhere interesting.

“Mhm,” Ian nodded.

“Why don’t you take off your t-shirt then, cool yourself down?” Mickey smirked, ready for a show.

“I was actually thinking of hanging up and getting a cold shower.”

Mickey blinked at him for a second. “No! What the fuck? Just get your fuckin’ clothes off.”

Ian tried to hold his laughter at Mickey’s outburst, but it was hard when he was pouting and had his arms folded over his chest.

“OK, OK, I’ll strip for you,” Ian laughed a little and blew him a kiss.

Ian pushed his laptop back a bit to give Mickey a better view. Then, he grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. It wasn’t anything special, but the way his muscles flexed and the way his bare chest looked, had Mickey’s mouth watering and whole body anticipating seeing more Ian.

“Your turn,” Ian said to him.

Mickey did the same, pushed his laptop back and stripped off his shirt.

“Pants,” Mickey nodded towards the screen.

Ian sat up on his knees and slowly undid his belt. Fuck. The sound of the belt being unbuckled sent blood straight to Mickey’s cock. Ian finally got rid of his pants, leaving his boxers on, and nodded to Mickey to do the same with his own pants.

Mickey wasn’t as graceful as Ian when it came to taking off his jeans. Ian had been a stripper for a while after all, so he had the advantage.

“Boxers,” Ian told Mickey.

Mickey took his underwear off and was now butt ass naked for Ian in front of the screen. Mickey raised his brow at Ian, who was staring at the screen in absolute awe like it was the first time he’d ever seen him naked.

Mickey’s hand went to touch his cock but Ian stopped him. “Don’t touch yourself, not yet,” Ian commanded.

Mickey wanted to be pissed off and tell him to go fuck himself, but that fucking demanding tone made Mickey’s knees weak and his body willing to give him everything and anything.

He let out a long breath he had been holding when Ian finally, _finally_ , took off his own boxers and revealed the cock Mickey had missed so much.

“Like what you see?” Ian asked as he slowly stroked himself.

“Yes, yes,” Mickey nodded, eyes darting from Ian’s thick cock in his hand, and to his beautiful smirking face.

“You want it, huh?” Ian asked, his voice low and fucking sexy as fuck. “How bad do you want it, baby?”

Mickey was too fucking gone and too fucking horny to scald him for the stupid pet names. “So bad, Ian, I _need_ you.”

“This bed,” Ian said and motioned to the fancy hotel bed he was sat in, “this bed, Mickey, the things I wanna do to you in this bed.”

“What things?” Mickey asked for mre.

“First, I’d get you to lie down, spread those pretty legs and let me eat your ass out fucking _hours_.”

“Fuck,” Mickey sighed, his hands just itching to touch his own cock.

“Then I’d kick you off the bed, get you on to your knees and fuck your face until you cried-”

“ _Ian, please_ ,” Mickey moaned.

“Whatchu after, baby?” Ian smiled innocently.

“Let me fuckin’ touch myself, please.”

“Ah-ah, I’m not done yet.”

Mickey groaned but let Ian continue.

“I’d fuck your face right until I’m about to come, then I’d bend you over the bed and fuck you so hard, Mickey, so fucking hard until your begging to come. I’d fill you up nice and hot with my own come and pull out, whisper gently in your ear -

come for me, Mickey.”

“ _Ian_ ,” Mickey panted and watched as Ian got his own release, thick white streams of come flowing out off his dick.

“Come for me, Mickey,” Ian finally whispered.

Mickey did exactly as he was told. He had barely wrapped his hand around his own cock before he was coming hard in his hand.

“Fuck,” Ian sighed. “I miss you.”

“Yeah, me too, Red.”

Mickey’s mind was a mess of emotions right now. Happy and blissful because he was coming down from a fucking amazing climax. But also sad. He missed Ian. And also tired. He’d been sleeping on the couch since Ian left, and barely got a few hours a night, but he wanted to stay up all night and talk to his beautiful boyfriend.

So he did just that.

They stayed up for hours, talking about anything that came to mind.

Mickey was glad to hear that Ian was really enjoying this EMT thing. They were just doing mostly textbook work at the moment, but Ian had made some friends and it was interesting and enjoyable.

Ian was glad to hear that Mickey was moping less. He’d gone out and spent time with his sister and was having fun with Wolf.

Then they talked about missing each other.

Then they talked about some TV shows they should watch.

Then they talked about their cats.

Then they talked about how 86 more days wasn’t really too long of a time to wait to see each other.

Then Ian yawned loudly and Mickey yawned too, contagious.

“It’s three am, I gotta be up at seven,” Ian yawned again.

“Nooo,” Mickey pathetically said, yawning again as well.

“I won’t leave if you don’t want me too,” Ian said.

“Mm,” Mickey blinked but then his eyes just felt so good to close, so he kept them close without realising he was drifting off.

“Hey, hey,” Ian said to wake him up.

Mickey opened his eyes again and saw Ian was now also lying on his side, looking barely awake.

“Goodnight,” Ian smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Ian,” Mickey smiled sadly at the screen and they both hung up.

_**Day Fourteen** _

Tuesday. Two weeks since Ian had been gone. Things were pretty balanced and almost normal now.

They spoke on Skype most nights, and both sent frequent texts throughout the day to inform the other of what they were up to. It didn’t matter how mundane the thing they were up to was, Ian and Mickey were just too happy to talk each other.

Mickey had decided to take Wolf out to the park he had been to with Ian and Wolf a couple of months ago.

They had been driving for an hour before the car made some sad sputtering sound.

“Fuck,” Mickey shook his head and pressed his foot down on the gas, but the car continued to spit and cough and slow down.

Mickey had to give up and pull to the side of the road in the middle of fuck knows where.

“Fuck! Fuck!” Mickey groaned, banging his head on the back of his seat. “Wait here, kid,” he said to Wolf as he got out of the car.

He opened up the front of the car to check out the smoking engine. He checked some of the mechanics and sighed angrily. Luckily, he remembered he had some tools in the trunk.

He got the tools and got to work, tightening up some of the shit that had come loose, and then almost fucking beating the car up with his spanner when he felt how hot the engine had gotten. Two hours, he reckoned, for it to cool down and be drivable without a risk. FUCK.

“FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT!” Mickey shouted and kicked one of the tires as hard as he could, and then he shouted because that fucking hurt.

And of course Wolf chose that time to cry.

Mickey cradled Wolf and rocked him a little and he eventually shut up when Mickey offered his thumb to suck on.

“Spoilt aren’tcha, Wolf?” Mickey laughed as Wolf used his finger as a pacifier.

Mickey was thanking his younger self for stealing cars and for those summers he worked in Iggy’s friends garage.

Mike! That’s the guy.

Fuck, Mickey had fun at that garage. He probably hasn’t spoken to Mike for fucking five years now. Great guy, great guy.

His thoughts were interrupted by his ringing phone.

“Hey,” Ian greeted him brightly.

“Hey,” Mickey replied, less bright because he was pissed off at his shitty car.

“What’s up, Mick?”

“Car. Broke down. Middle of nowhere.”

“I told ya you car was shit,” Ian snickered.

“Fuck you, my car’s amazing. The engine is just real fuckin’ hot so I’m stuck here for a couple of hours.”

“You fix it OK?”

“Yeah, man, I’m a car expert - a carxpert.”

“Oh wow, you’re a genius,” Ian laughed.

“I know, I know,” Mickey laughed too, glad to be distracted from the car.

Mickey then heard Ian talking to someone for a moment. “Shit, I gotta go,” Ian said.

“But we only just started talking!”

“I know, baby, but lunch just got cut short.”

Mickey shook his head, “Baby?”

“You had no complaints when I called you that last night,” Ian replied and Mickey just knew that fucker was probably smirking.

“Fuck you, Gallagher,” Mickey laughed. “Go, enjoy your posh EMT training.”

“Posh?”

“Yep.”

“You crazy, Mickey, really,” Ian chuckled. “I fucking love you, alright? Bye.”

“I love you too, _baby_ ,” Mickey replied, knowing that Ian would just melt at the name.

“Mhm, fucking love you.”

Then he was gone.

And Mickey’s mind thought it’d be the perfect time to feel insecure and inadequate.

He needed a fucking job.

Ian was going to be some fancy, posh EMT (well, maybe not exactly fancy and posh, but when someone says they work as an EMT, it sounds better than saying you serve drinks at a bar).

Light-fucking-bulb!

The garage.

Holy fuck, the garage, the fucking auto repair shop.

He still had Mike’s number.

He pressed the contact and called the number, feeling nervous and excited as the phone rang.

“Yo, Mike?” Mickey said as the other line answered.

“Mickey? Mickey Milkovich?”

“Yeah, man.”

“Five years! What’s your ass been up to?” Mike asked.

“A fucking lot, we gotta catch up.”

“Fuck yeah, Mickey. Why’d you call, man, it’s been forever?”

“Broke down in the middle of nowhere.”

“Come on, Mickey, you’re a good mechanic, don’t tell me you don’t know what to do?” Mike laughed down the phone at the idea of Mickey not being able to fix up his car.

“Nah, nah, I got it under control. Just got me thinking if you got any jobs going?”

“Ah, so you’re only calling me because you want something?”

Mickey suddenly felt like kind of an asshole. Mike was a great guy and he suddenly felt like it was wrong to be calling for a job. “No- I no-”

“Just fucking with you, Mickey. I’m glad you called, man, could do with an extra pair o’ hands, ‘specially your grubby ones. Come down to the garage on Thursday, we can catch up and if I like ya, ya might getta job outta it.”

“Yeah, man, I’m free!” Mickey enthusiastically replied.

Mickey Milkovich was getting shit done! Insecurities begone! OK, maybe the job wasn’t guaranteed, but it would actually make him feel somewhat worth something with a job like a mechanic.

“That’s great, I’ll see you there.”

“Yeah, yeah, you too, Mike,” he hung up.

Mickey looked at Wolf with a massive fucking grin.

“Dada?” Wolf stuck his tongue out.

“Your Dada is getting shit done, little Wolf!” Mickey proudly said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it obvious that i have no clue how to fix a car? Haha.
> 
> Anyway, I know I said I'd have the two months in two chapters, however, I'd rather write more content and upload it weekly, than write less but take longer and leave you hanging for too long. I hope that isn't a problem. I am super busy at the moment but writing fanfic is my break from it all so I will still aim for weekly uploads of a good amount of content.
> 
> 100k words! Aaah, I wanna give a speech on how much I love you all and how amazing you all are, but I don't wanna make my notes too long haha. Thank you to anyone who reads this, kudos, bookmarks, and comments, you really make me happy. I hope you liked this chapter and thank you for your patience, much love to you all <3


	30. Chapter Thirty

_**Day Sixteen** _

Mickey was fucking nervous. Yes, nervous. He had tried on about six different outfits before settling on the first one he tried. He had styled his hair, unstyled it, styled it again. He paced his bedroom for a bit and even looking at Wolfgang giggling on his bed didn’t help him calm down.

“Don’t even know why I’m so fuckin’ nervous, Wolf,” Mickey told his son. “Me and Mike are old friends, he’s not gonna fuckin’ turn me down.”

“Dada?” Wolf interrupted his rant.

“What?”

“Cookie?”

Mickey stared at the little boy, reaching for the cookie packet Mickey had in his hand. He calmed a little.

“OK, here you go,” Mickey relaxed and sat on the bed with Wolf and handed him a cookie. He ruffled Wolf’s dark hair and smiled at him.

In just a couple of hours, Mickey would be getting his ass down to Mike’s garage, and hopefully, he’ll leave it with a job he knew he’d be proud of more than a bartender. He wasn’t entirely doing it to make himself proud, no, he wanted to make Ian proud. Fuck he couldn’t wait to tell Ian.

He was going to keep it a secret, though. He wanted to be there in person to tell him.

Mickey was finally relaxing when his panic levels went right back up when his phone started to ring.

“Fuck!” Mickey cursed and jumped for his phone.

Luckily, it was just Ian.

“Hey, Mick,” Ian greeted him brightly.

OK, Mickey, you can do this. Just don’t sound suspicious.

“Hello, my beautiful beautiful sexy boyfriend,” Mickey replied _very_ enthusiastically. Well fuck, that’s not suspicious _at all_.

“Oh, thank you? You drunk or something? It’s the middle of the day, Mick.”

“Nope, just glad you called.” Mickey was making it worse with everything he said. He visibly cringed at himself.

“Yep, something’s up. What’s up?” Ian Sherlock Holmes asked.

“I’m good, I’m good. You just woke me up in the middle of a nap, spooked me, man.”

Mickey Milkovich taking a midday nap? That was believable, and Ian believed it to so shrugged it off.

“Alright but if you keep sleeping during the day, you won’t sleep at night.”

“Oh sorry, Gallagher, didn’t realise you were my fuckin’ mother now too,” Mickey laughed.

“I just care about you, baby,” Ian laughed too.

“I swear to fuck, if you call me baby one more fuckin’ time, I’mma fuck you up. These knuckles aren’t just for show, _baby_.”

“Ah, I love you,” Ian sighed.

“Your fuckin’ weird,” Mickey shook his head. “Look, I gotta go now.”

“Where you going?”

“Gotta meet Mandy about something, don’t worry,” Mickey said. It wasn’t entirely a lie. He still had to meet Mandy to hand her Wolfgang whilst he went to the garage.

“OK then,” Ian sighed sadly. “Skype tonight?”

“I’m working late so I probably won’t be able to get to it until one in the morning your time.”

“I’ll stay up. I miss your face.”

“Miss your fuckin’ face too. I really gotta go now. Talk to you later,” Mickey said as he tied the laces of his shoes and prepared to leave.

“Talk to you later. I love _youuuu_.”

“Yeah. Love you too, Gallagher.”

***

As soon as Mickey had parked and stepped out of his car, he was pulled into a bro hug by Mike. Mickey wasn’t one for hugs, but Mike was a squishy guy and practically made for hugs.

“Come on in, Mickey. Come on in,” Mike said, beckoning him into the shop.

It was a small garage with about six cars in at the moment. It looked pretty much the same as it did those years ago that Mickey had spent some time and worked there.

“That’s Lucy,” Mike said and pointed at a pair of legs sticking out from under a car.

“HEY!” the girl shouted and kicked one of her legs as a greeting.

“My son, Paul,” Mike continued and a guy drinking from a mug nodded. “And that old geezer is Ray.”

“I’m not fucking old. Aged. Aged like fine fucking wine, Mike!” the old - very old - looking guy grumbled.

“You don’t have to worry about him though, it’s his job you’ll be taking - guy’s retirin’ next week,” Mike walked further into the small garage and into his little office.

They sat opposite each other at the messy desk.

“His job I’ll be taking? So I got the job?” Mickey asked.

“Hell yeah, Mickey. It might not look it, but we’re always so fuckin’ busy since the other garage had that fire.”

“That’s great,” Mickey smiled. “The job bit, not the fuckin’ fire, ha.”

“Yeah, ha. So - Ray retires next Friday. You reckon you can start on - uh - Thursday the following week. Two weeks from now?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine that’s good,” Mickey rambled, trying not to seem too excited.

“There is a downside though.”

Mickey’s smile faltered a little. Oh dear. “What’s that?”

“You’re gonna have to dress like us,” Mike laughed and stood up to twirl in his dark blue jumpsuit.

“Shit,” Mickey laughed.

“I’ll order it so it’ll be here in time. We’ll even get ya name sowed into the little fuckin’ patch.”

“Can’t wait,” Mickey grimaced and looked at Mike’s not-so-flattering work suit.

“So now that that’s outta the way,” Mike grabbed a box from beside his chair and placed it on the desk. “Let’s catch up,” he opened the box and took a few cans of beer out.

“Aren’t you on the job?” Mickey raised his brow.

“It’s a relaxed working environment,” Mike chuckled, handing him a beer. “I own this place, I do what I want, Mickey.”

Mickey raised his beer at that and they drank, laughed, and caught up on life and all of its shit, good and bad.

***

When Mickey got home from working at the bar, he was so very happy. He quietly put Wolf to bed and quickly opened his laptop, desperate to get onto Skype and tell Ian what he’d accomplished today.

As the phone was ringing, waiting for Ian to pick up, Mickey remembered his decision to keep it a secret for now. Just the thought of Ian being so proud and happy for him when he told him made him grin widely.

Ian answered. He looked beautiful, albeit a bit tired, in the lowlight of the lamp.

“Heyy,” Ian smiled. “What you grinning about?”

“You.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So short, I know, I'm sooo sorry! I did quite a bit of travelling this week and had planned to use that time to write this but didn't save my document for offline because I'm stupid. However, I did work on another instalment in my Roommate AUs series, so that should be up by the end of the week... Hope you enjoyed this little short chapter - once again sorry :(


	31. Chapter Thirty One

_**Day 45** _

Day forty five out of ninety! The longest fucking forty five days in Mickey’s entire life, but it hadn’t all been bad.

Keeping working at the garage a secret had been pretty hard. Ian was always a little suspicious when Mickey called him or joined him on Skype during the hours he used to work at the bar, so then Mickey had to get Kev to lie to Ian and say that he got a new schedule. Ian seemed satisfied with that, then Ian Sherlock Holmes got suspicious that Mickey was happy.

“What? I can’t be fuckin’ happy to see my boyfriend?” Mickey retorted.

“It’s not that, Mick. Just, you seem less pissed off than usual. Maybe I should leave you alone for longer,” Ian laughed.

“Fuck off, man. I miss your ass so fuckin’ much. It’s fuckin’ crazy,” Mickey sighed.

Ian smiled at his sad little man. “You’re too cute, Mickey.”

“Ay, fuck off with that,” he snapped back, not sounding as scary as he wanted and blushing whilst he did.

What Ian couldn’t see off screen was Wolf. It was eleven pm and therefore _way_ past the kid’s bedtime, but he had been crying and fussing and Mickey would rather just let him sit happily beside him (out of frame so Ian wouldn’t scold him for being ‘irresponsible’ for letting him stay up late) rather than argue with the stubborn - definitely a Milkovich - boy.

“How’s Wolf doing?” Ian asked.

Mickey threw a quick glance to the side and saw Wolf perk up at his name, specifically ‘Eena’ saying his name.

“Eena!” Wolf shouted before Mickey had the chance to cover the kid’s mouth, switch off the microphone, shove a cookie in the little boy’s hand, anything so Ian wouldn’t find out.

Ian raised his brow and smirked. He’d been caught. “What’s that, Mickey?”

“Nothin’,” Mickey said, hastily trying to busy Wolf with another chocolate chip cookie.

“No. No. Eena!” Wolf refused the cookie and attempted to wriggle his way on to his dada’s lap to get to the source of Eena’s voice.

“I gotta go,” Mickey quickly said as an excuse.

“Nooooo,” Ian whined. “I wanna see him! I won’t tell you off for letting him stay up late?”

Mickey gave Ian a look. He knew full fucking well that Ian would bring this up again sometime soon. _‘Hey, remember last night when you let your son stay up really late and now you’re calling me because you can’t handle how cranky he is?’_

Mickey sighed and pulled the kid onto his lap facing the screen.

Ian cracked a big smile and waved at Wolf. “Hey, Wolfie!”

“EENA!” Wolf happily cried, waving a little hand at the screen.

“How you been, Wolf?” Ian asked.

Wolf reached out and grabbed the packet of cookies he and Mickey had been snacking on.

“Cookie,” Wolf declared.

“Cookies? That’s nice. Lot’s of sugar, Mickey?” Ian smiled brightly despite his obvious dig at Mickey feeding the toddler cookies so late at night.

“You’re just jealous that you’re not here to give him cookies,” Mickey stuck his tongue out at Ian, laughing to himself at how childish they were being.

“Oo, low blow, Milkovich, low blow,” Ian tutted.

“Eena!” Wolf shouted, bringing Ian’s attention back to him. “Fucking cookies!”

Both the adults burst out laughing. That only spurred the kid on more to chant ‘fucking cookies’ and clap his hands.

“Jesus, Mickey, we really have to watch our language,” Ian said, still giggling to himself.

“He’s our son, what do you expect?”

Well that was fucking new. _Our_ son.

Mickey went into total panic silent meltdown mode. He had never said anything that suggested he considered Ian to be Wolf’s dad too. It’s always been _Mickey’s_ son. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Mickey did think of Ian as Wolf’s dad because he really wanted to be with Ian forever and that meant raising this kid together. But he was so fucking scared as to how Ian would react. He didn’t want to scare him away.

“Yeah,” Ian agreed and looked down, smiling stupidly. “Our son, huh?”

“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t - it sort of slipped out-.

“It’s OK,” Ian smiled.

“Well, unless, you wanna-” Mickey said, not really sure what he was asking.

“Wanna what, Mickey?” Ian tilted his head, still smiling at the man he fucking loved and the little toddler on his lap.

“I don’t know…” he looked down at his son, gently stroking his soft dark hair, then he looked back up to Ian and shrugged, feigning that this didn’t mean much to him, “Unless you don’t mind being like, uh, I don’t fuckin’ know, like his other dad or some shit?”

Ian laughed softly and smiled at his two favourite people in the world, “I’d like that, yeah.”

“Yeah?” Mickey asked, little bit more eager than he meant to.

“Yeah, Mickey. I fuck-flipping love you.” Nice save, Ian, nice save.

“I fuckin’ flipping love you too.”

_**Day 47** _

Part of Mickey was screaming at him and telling him this was a bad fucking idea. But a much bigger part was holding the whole 'YOLO' attitude. Fuck it! Mickey liked to embrace his YOLO side sometimes, so that's exactly what he was going to do.

The garage had to shut for four days after some fuck up with some supplier. Mickey would have been pissed off because he couldn’t do with four days of no pay, however, Mike paid him for the four days off. He was getting paid to stay off work. Fucking amazing.

Then Mickey had the idea.

He hastily packed some of Wolf’s clothes, diapers, toys, and packet of cookies into a bag. Whilst packing some of his own clothes and a toothbrush into another.

“Mandy, hey,” Mickey said down the phone, whilst still pacing around his apartment and packing some last minute things like food.

“Why are you so out of breath?” Mandy replied.

“Packing. Look, you gotta be able to take Wolf for like four days.”

“Sure!” Mandy quickly replied because she absolutely adored Wolfgang. “Wait… why?”

“Got somethin’ I gotta take care off,” Mickey shrugged, deciding to keep his plan secret. “I’ll be over in ten, be ready to take him because I gotta fuckin’ dash.”

“Alright. Just don’t be doing anything illegal,” Mandy laughed.

“Whatever. See you in ten.”

Mickey left his apartment, backpack on his back, duffel bag in one hand, and Wolf attached to his hip supported by his other hand.

He quickly dropped Wolf off, being _very_ vague to Mandy about where he was going, and jumped back in the car for his thirteen hour drive.

Thirteen fucking hours.

He’d get there at ten at night.

In thirteen fucking hours, he’ll be able to see the man he loved with his whole fucking heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! Gonna !!! get !!! his !!! fucking !!! man !!!
> 
> I know this chapter was a rlly short, but it felt right to round the chapter off there... Next chapter is gonna make up for the short chapter sorry ;)...
> 
> <3


	32. Chapter Thirty two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ;)

It was almost eight pm. Mickey had been driving pretty much non-stop except for getting gas, but now he had stopped at some 24/7 diner. He was sipping his coke and slowly making his way through a plate of cheesy fries. Then Ian called.

“Hey! I thought you were in work?” Ian said as Mickey put his phone to his ear.

“Why would you call if I was in work, huh?” Mickey laughed and took a sip of his drink.

“Hoping you weren’t, I guess. I miss you.”

“Miss you too,” Mickey replied, not sounding as sad as Ian because he knew he wouldn’t be missing him for long. (Just two fucking hours until he got to the hotel Ian had been staying at.) “Actually, I got a fuckin’ surprise for you.”

“Really?” Ian asked suspiciously. “What is it?”

“If I told you then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it, Ian?”

“Ian? Christ, Mickey, what the fuck have you done,” Ian sighed loudly and Mickey just knew the bastard was shaking his head and doing that disapproving look that often only spurred Mickey on.

“Why’d you just fuckin’ assume it’s something bad? You’ll like it, I promise.”

“Mhm. At least give me a hint to what it is?”

“Fine… It’s to do with me,” _Turning up at your door_ , Mickey silently added in his head.

“Well I sorta guessed that. Hmm,” Ian hummed, attempting to crack this secret. “You got a tattoo?”

“No.”

“Haircut?”

“No, shit you’re bad at this, huh?” Mickey laughed.

“Fuck off,” Ian laughed back. “Piercing?”

“No, Gallagher. I’m not fuckin’ telling ya what it is. You get your hint and that’s it.”

Mickey could just hear Ian sulking and pouting. “Mickey, _baby_ , please?”

“Gallagher-”

“Mmm, _baby_ , tell me what it is,” Ian practically _moaned_ down the phone.

“You can fuck the phone all you want; I’m not fuckin’ budging.”

“Ugh, fine, you suck, Mickey.”

“ _Wow_ ,” Mickey laughed at Ian’s stupidly childish attitude. What a fucking dork. “I love you too.”

“At least tell me when I get to see the surprise, please?”

“Mm, two hours.”

“Two hours?” Ian slowly said.

“Yep. I’ll show you it then.”

“And by it, you mean your body, yeah?”

“Yeah. You getta see my body, Gallagher,” Mickey replied, chuckling a little. _On your bed, naked, Mickey thought to himself._ Oh, Ian would see Mickey’s body alright.

“I’ll Skype you then. You better be ready.”

Mickey quickly checked the time. If he was going to be there in two hours, he better leave right now. 

He made his way out of the diner and towards car.

“I’ll be ready. I gotta go now,” Mickey said as he started his car.

“Why do you have to go?” Ian sadly replied.

“Gotta get ready for ya, don’t I, baby?” Mickey grinned at how well this was going. Ian had no fucking clue.

“Shit,” Ian gave out a nervous little laugh. Mickey knew exactly what petnames did to his man. “I’ll let you go then, baby. I love you.”

“Mm, I love you too, Ian. See you in two hours, ay?”

“Can’t fucking wait.”

***

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Fuck!

Mickey had been pacing outside the hotel for two minutes now. His body was so torn between excitement and nervousness, that it decided to have a fucking meltdown.

Mickey leaned against a wall and was beyond relieved when he found his lighter and half a pack of smokes in his bag. He lit a cigarette between his lips and tried to steady his breathing and calm himself as he smoked.

Then Ian was ringing his phone.

“Why won’t you answer Skype? It’s four minutes past the two hours you said, Mickey,” Ian scolded down the phone.

“I know, I know, sorry. Just gotta start the laptop,” Mickey apologised and let out a long exhale of smoke.

There was a pause, then Ian asked, “You smoking again?”

Mickey sighed. They had both agreed to quit - slowly - what with Wolf and all, plus it was an expensive habit that they couldn’t really afford. Mickey could make a twenty pack last two weeks, yet here he was, trying to devour half a pack.

“Sorry. Nerves.”

“What’re you nervous about?” Ian asked, sounding more concerned rather than pissed off (which Mickey thought he would be).

“I don’t know. Seeing you, I guess,” Mickey stubbed his cigarette out and binned the rest of the pack to stop himself for going any further.

“Seeing me? We literally Skyped two days ago. Is it because of this _surprise_ you were talking about?”

“It’s the surprise, yeah.”

“You know I fucking love you. No matter what, yeah? Get your ass on Skype Mickey, I wanna see you,” Ian laughed softly.

“I wanna see you too,” Mickey slowly gained his confidence back, his body finally understanding that he should be excited and not nervous.

“Good. Now come on, let me see your gay ass.”

“Fuck you,” Mickey finally stood up straighter, smile on his face as he headed into the hotel. “What number room you in?”

“Why do you want to know that?” Ian asked, a little confused about the quick subject change.

“I wanna know everything about you, Ian,” Mickey replied.

“Cheesy gay ass,” Ian declared. “Eighth floor, room 45. Now get online, let me see youuu.”

“OK, OK. I’m just logging in,” Mickey smiled to himself and pressed the elevator button for number 8. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“I can’t wait to see you too.”

Mickey was almost laughing at that. Ian was expecting his boyfriend’s face to be on some stupid digital screen. He would _not_ expect this.

“Can’t wait to see your stupid face,” Mickey said.

“I can’t wait to see your grumpy face,” Ian said back.

The elevator doors opened and Mickey headed down the corridor, his head swinging left and right as he checked the door numbers.

_12, 13, 14, 15…_

“Can’t wait to see your crazy red hair,” Mickey was practically skipping down the hall now.

_25, 26, 27, 28…_

“Can’t wait to see your stupid eyes.”

“OK,” Ian stopped him. “Enough with the insults.”

“Sure,” Mickey smiled, picking up his pace and turning around the corner.

_38, 39, 40, 41…_

“I can’t fuckin’ wait to kiss your gay face again, Gallagher. I fuckin’ love you.”

Ian went quiet, a little lost for words.

“Mickey,” Ian happily sighed. “I-”

_45_

Mickey quickly knocked on the door.

“Someone’s at my door. One sec,” Ian left his bed, still holding his phone to his ear to listen to Mickey.

“Ian,” Mickey carefully said, thinking the words over in his head, not wanting to mess anything up. “I love you. I love you so much. So fuckin’ much. I got somethin’ I need to ask you-”

The door swung open.

Ian’s jaw dropped along with his phone.

Then Mickey got down on one fucking knee.

“Ian Clayton Gallagher,” Mickey took Ian’s shaking hand in his own. “Will you marry me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;)


	33. Chapter Thirty Three

“Mick-” Ian choked a little as he stared into those beautiful blue eyes.

“Don’t leave me fuckin’ hanging,” Mickey raised his brow, feeling more and more insecure the longer Ian left it.

Ian nodded like mad, “Yes! Yes I’ll marry you, Mickey.”

With that, Ian pulled Mickey onto his feet and kissed him like he hadn’t kissed him in forever (which it felt like he really hadn’t).

They stumbled into Ian’s hotel room, door being kicked closed behind them, hands not leaving each other, mouths not leaving each other.

“What are you doing here?” Ian asked when he got the chance.

“Had something I had to ask ya, didn’t I?” Mickey replied, gently biting his kissed out lower lip.

“You really mean it? You really wanna marry me?” Ian gently held Mickey’s cheek. Fuck, it had been way too fucking long since he had been able to feel the warmth of Mickey’s beautiful beautiful skin.

“Yeah. I really mean it,” Mickey confidently said, because Ian was the only thing in his life he was one hundred percent sure he wanted, he needed. “I love you and I wanna be with you for fuckin’ forever, Ian.”

“I wanna be with you forever too. I love you,” Ian kissed those lips he had missed so much.

Mickey instinctively wrapped his arms around Ian’s neck, stood a little on his toes, and leaned up to kiss _his fiancé_.

“Am I dreaming? Is this really happening? Did you really just propose? Holy shit,” Ian rambled, his hands feeling Mickey’s sides just to make sure that Mickey really was here in his hotel room 800 miles away from Chicago.

“Yes, you fuckin’ idiot. I’m really here,” Mickey kissed Ian’s neck and -because they were both possessive little fuckers- sucked to leave a mark that said _Mine_.

“How long for?”

“Just the weekend. Got work on Tuesday and I can’t leave Wolf with Mandy forever.”

“Wolf! I miss him. Why didn’t you bring him, asshole?” Ian playfully slapped Mickey’s ass.

“‘Cause how I plan to spend tonight isn’t very family friendly…” Mickey wiggled his eyebrows.

“Fuck yeah,” Ian caught on and kissed Mickey again. He could never get tired of kissing his man’s perfect lips.

They pulled apart for a quick moment to yank of their t-shirts, and then attached at the mouth again, hands eagerly touching the revealed skin.

Mickey gasped into the kiss and bit on Ian’s lip as Ian pinched Mickey’s nipples between a finger and thumb. It had been way too fucking long since Mickey had been touched by Ian, and fucking hell was it amazing.

Mickey’s hands dropped from Ian’s shoulders to unbuckle Ian’s belt. The sound of that bell, followed by the zipper, sent shivers of anticipation down Mickey’s spine.

He slid to the ground on his knees and finally got Ian’s cock out, hard, hot, and ready for him.

Mickey wasted no time in taking as much as he could into his mouth. The taste. The smell. So familiar and wonderful. Mickey was so in fucking love.

Ian’s fingers ran through Mickey’s dark hair, his grip tightening every now and then when Mickey’s tongue flicked across the head.

“Look at me, baby,” Ian muttered.

Mickey looked up and locked eyes with Ian. He looked beautiful yet so fucking sinful. His eyes were blown dark with just a thin ring of icy blue circling them. His eyelashes and corners of his eyes were a little glossy and damp from the happy tears he’d tried to resist (and probably also from choking on Ian’s cock). And his lips. Puffed and pink and spread so perfectly around Ian’s cock. Beautiful.

“Mm, fuck,” Ian’s hips slowly thrust forward when Mickey relaxed his jaw a little and kept still, encouraging Ian to slowly fuck his face.

Mickey hummed around his cock as Ian picked up the pace, his hands gripping Mickey’s hair as he thrust into his perfectly wet mouth.

It had been a while since Mickey was last on his knees and sucking Ian’s dick so expertly, so it wasn’t long until Ian felt himself getting close.

“Shit, we gotta stop,” Ian panted and slowly pulled his cock out of Mickey’s mouth.

Mickey looked up at Ian innocently as he let his lips drag across the head, smearing precome on his lips.

“I don’t wanna stop though,” Mickey said and Ian could fucking _feel_ the words on his cock. “You taste so fucking good.”

“Jesus, Mick. No, get up,” Ian shook his head and pulled the little tease up onto his feet.

They kissed again and Ian licked the saltiness of Mickey’s lips. They continued to kiss as Ian took Mickey’s pants off too.

“Mm,bed,” Ian hummed as he backed Mickey up to the bed and lay him on his back.

“Lube’s in my bag,” Mickey nodded towards his discarded bag on the floor.

Mickey shuffled up the bed and lay waiting whilst Ian quickly rummaged through Mickey’s bag. He didn’t have to wait long for Ian to be back on top of him and kissing him passionately again.

Their hands were everywhere on the other person, desperate to touch, feel, learn, know, explore every inch of the one they love. 

Ian’s hand slipped down from where it had been kneading Mickey’s thigh to in between his legs. He rubbed some lube onto a couple of fingers and lightly traced Mickey’s rim. He pushed just the tip of one of his fingers.

“ _Please_ ,” Mickey whined whilst he attempted to grind his ass down onto Ian’s fingers. “Get ‘em in me, Gallagher, please.”

Ian obeyed the polite request. He pushed two slick fingers inside of his man’s tight ass. So so tight.

“Shit,” Mickey gasped as Ian spread his fingers to work him open.

“So tight,” Ian groaned. “Can’t wait to get in you, fuck.”

He thrust his fingers in and out at a slow pace, working every little moan, gasp, and soft _Ian, baby_ out of Mickey.

Mickey had never used that gentle, loving pet name so much in his entire life, but it was doing fucking wonders to Ian. 

“Fuck, Ian, please,” Mickey breathlessly said as Ian continued to work his fingers in and out of Mickey’s tight hole.

“What do you want, Mickey?” Ian asked as he jabbed his fingers in quickly, pushing against that sweet spot that had Mickey crying out.

“Fuck me! Fuck me, Ian,” Mickey begged. “Please. I need your cock, baby.”

Ian was already stroking lube on his cock that was hot and hard and so ready to be inside of Mickey.

“Of course, baby,” Ian kissed him softly before gripping Mickey’s hips and lining himself up.

“ _Iaaannn_ ,” Mickey moaned his name as Ian slowly pushed his cock into him.

Mickey’s hole was tight and clenched around him hard once he bottomed out, his whole cock buried deep inside of his lover’s ass.

“Fuck,” Ian groaned and began to slowly pull out and then snap his hips back quickly, making Mickey yelp.

“Yes!” Mickey’s hands went to Ian’s firey hair to grab it and pull Ian’s face down and kiss him hard.

Ian picked up the pace, thrusting in and out of Mickey. Mickey had a hand in Ian’s hair to grip whilst they kissed and another hand raking up and down Ian’s back and occasionally grabbing his ass to pull him closer.

It had been so long since they fucked. But this wasn’t just fucking. Fuck. This was making fucking love.

Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take too long for them to get close to their release. The beautiful sounds coming from Mickey’s mouth and the way Ian knew exactly what to do to make Mickey feel good, it all made this moment so perfect.

“I love you, I love you,” Mickey chanted as Ian’s hand went to his neglected cock to bring him to his release.

“Mhm, Mickey. I love you,” Ian moaned as Mickey’s ass clenched and he came between their chests. “I love you,” Ian repeated and his hips stilled and he came inside of Mickey.

Mickey continued the slow rhythm of moving his ass on Ian’s cock as they slowly came down from their orgasms.

They kissed slowly and softly again. Then Ian pulled out and grabbed the tissues from beside the bed to quickly clean them up.

Mickey usually rolled over now and they’d spoon until they fell asleep, but this time, they lay face to face, because they didn’t want to waste a single minute of their short time together.

“You’re beautiful,” Ian declared as he ran a hand through Mickey’s soft, albeit a little sweaty, hair.

Mickey blushed and gave Ian a quick, shy, peck on the lips.

“Where’s my diamond ring, huh?” Ian teased Mickey, earning him a gentle kick in the shins from his fiancé.

“Keistered it,” Mickey said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Keistered it?”

“Yep. Stuck it up my ass. Wanna find it?” Mickey laughed quietly.

It was Ian’s turn to kick Mickey’s shin. “Didn’t tire your ass enough already, did I?”

“My ass is beyond tired,” Mickey yawned.

Ian smiled so happily and content at his man yawning and snuggling himself closer.

“I still can’t believe you’re here,” Ian muttered. “ _And_ I can’t believe you fucking proposed!”

“Well you better fuckin’ believe it. No leaving me now, Gallagher,” Mickey grinned and grabbed Ian’s ass. “You’re mine now.”

Ian grinned back and grabbed some of Mickey’s ass too. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving you.”

“Neither would I. I love you, Ian.”

“I love you, Mickey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been feeling bad for the shorter chapters recently Plus I've been on some crazy writing streak, which is why there's been THREE updates in three days. I am Shocked at myself, but I'm just really loving having them together again.
> 
> So, for the next chapter, would you like Mickey and Ian's weekend together and then probably end it with Mickey going home, _or_ , go through the next forty five days (quickly) and end with Ian being home for good? I'm down to write either ;)


	34. Chapter Thirty Three and a Half

For what seemed like the first time in forever, Mickey woke up in the arms of the man he loved. It was so comforting and so familiar, he almost thought they were back home for a moment.

But they weren’t home. Mickey would have to go back to being without Ian again in a couple of days. He pushed the thought aside and decided to focus on the present and the time he was going to get with Ian.

His fiancé. 

His fucking fiancé.

They were both still a little shocked, but they also both knew how much they wanted this, how much they wanted each other.

Mickey groaned a little, displeased at the idea of waking up and leaving the warmth of the bed and Ian’s body plastered behind him.

Ian must have been awake too, because Mickey started to feel soft kisses on the back of his neck and top of his spine, and a hand travelling down his body.

“Mornin’, baby,” Ian mumbled into his neck.

Mickey didn’t even want to try and make his throat form a reply this early in the morning, so instead he pushed his ass back, grinding a little on Ian’s morning wood.

Ian let a throaty groan as Mickey’s hips gyrated, his ass causing the perfect friction against his cock.

Ian’s hand edged further down, gently stroking Mickey’s lower abdomen, thighs, and finally landing on his cock. He wrapped a hand around it, slowly stroking and paying extra attention to the leaking head and smearing precome over it.

“Hmm,” Mickey hummed happily, alternating between grinding his ass back and thrusting his hips forward into Ian’s fist.

Ian kissed Mickey’s neck, inhaling the scent that was Mickey, and listening to every uneven breath and little gasp whenever he twisted his wrist just right.

“ _Ian_ ,” he groaned, rutting his ass.

“Mhm?”

“Fuck, get in me,” Mickey mumbled back.

Ian’s hand abandoned Mickey’s cock for a moment, to yank his underwear down and get his own out. He grabbed Mickey’s hip, pulling him back, and then nestling his cock between those perfect thick cheeks.

“Yeah, fuck,” Mickey sighed as Ian started pushing his cock inside of his hole.

Ian inched his cock further into his man, stretching him out slowly but so so good. Mickey nudged his ass back on the last inch, making him bottom out and their bodies press flush against each other.

Ian finally started to move his hips, pulling out of Mickey slowly and then pushing back in at a quicker pace. His hand stayed on Mickey’s hips, to pull him back to meet his thrusts and hold him steady.

Mickey bit down on his bottom lip, muffling the odd grunt and moan, but he couldn’t help the quiet _fuck_ that escaped his lips when Ian’s hand switched back to his cock.

“I fucking -” Ian stopped mid-sentence, catching his breath and snapping his hips forward. “I fucking love you.”

“Fuck-” Mickey’s body filled with a warmth at those three words, making him feel so fucking loved, so fucking happy, and then he started to come and just managed to say back, “I love you.”

Ian followed after, realsing his come deep inside of Mickey.

They both waited a minute to catch their breath and wake up a little more, before Mickey turned around and kissed Ian, licking into his mouth whilst his hands roamed his warm body.

“Wanna go check out my shower?” Ian offered, raising an eyebrow and sporting a smirk that let Mickey _know_ that he had some plans for that shower.

Mickey pulled the sheets over his face and shook his head. “Too comfortable. Only if you carry me,” he laughed, because as if Ian would -

“Gotcha!” Ian grinned as he lifted his fiancé from the bed (bridal style of course).

“Ian fuckin’ Gallagher, I will fuckin’ end you!” Mickey shouted, kicking his legs furiously.

Ian continued to carry the struggling Milkovich easily to the en suite bathroom, ignoring his cries and protests (which he gave up after about five seconds).

“You’re a dead man, you know that?” Mickey snapped at Ian as he finally let him down on the cold tiles of the bathroom.

“You can’t kill me,” Ian simply stated as he started the shower.

“Why the fuck is that?”

“Because then who’d you marry, doofus?” Ian smiled and ruffled Mickey’s hair.

Despite his attempts to pretend he still wanted to kill the ginger, Mickey smiled back and accepted the offer of his hand and stepped into the beautifully hot shower with him.

They took a really long shower on account of them fucking twice and then finally doing what you’re supposed to do in a shower and getting clean. 

When they finally stumbled out of the shower, they were exhausted and so collapsed on the bed, automatically getting back into the spooning position they were in when they woke up.

“It’s almost midday,” Ian mumbled behind him.

“So? I wanna fuckin’ sleep,” Mickey said back.

Ian chuckled. He fucking loved grumpy tired ass Mickey because sure, he was a little cranky, but always seemed uncharacteristically soft and up for dumb conversations about whatever. Ian loved that man. So fucking much.

“We only get this weekend together though. Don’t you wanna do something?” Ian asked.

Mickey sighed loudly, “We _are_ doing something: taking a midday nap. _Together_.”

“If that’s what you want…”

“It is what I want.”

“OK,” Ian sadly said, disappointment clear in his voice.

Mickey waited a moment before sighing again and then turning around to look at him. “Fuck’s up?”

“Nothing,” Ian shrugged.

Mickey raised his brow, “Sure. Now tell me what the fuck is up?”

“I don’t know,” Ian sighed. “It’s just, you’re only here for a couple of days until we’re apart for another month and a half. I don’t wanna waste our time.”

“Fine. What do you suggest we do then?”

“Fuck again?” Ian laughed.

Mickey laughed too, “You really think you can get up again, firecrotch?”

Ian raised an eyebrow at the challenge, “I can fucking try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just couldn't leave y'all waiting too long for an update so this is sort of a bonus chapter to 33? I've just got some complications and stuff going on at the moment, mainly being sick and having no energy to write, but I am determined to write the full chapter 34 done for the end of the week. Sorry yall. Thanks for being so patient <3


	35. Chapter Thirty Four

Mickey would have been totally fine with spending the entire weekend in that hotel room with Ian, but _no_ , Ian insisted they got out and ‘explored the streets and sights’. Which is why they were now stood on some street, bickering like they had already had the wedding ten years ago.

“Why can’t we just go back to the hotel? There’s food and shit there. We can make our own fun, Gallagher,” Mickey said whilst yanking his jacket off - it was too fucking hot and they were stood in the brilliant shine of the midday May sun.

“That’s just boring, though!” Ian complained back.

“You callin’ me boring?”

Ian let out an angry sigh and and rolled his eyes, “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Fuckin’ sounded like it.”

“Look, why don’t we just find somewhere to eat? We’re both hungry,” Ian reasoned.

“We’ve been walking for twenty fuckin’ minutes, bitch, you shoulda picked somewhere to grab some food by now,” Mickey retorted.

Ian groaned and glared at Mickey whilst trying to think of a reply. Mickey glared back for a moment, wishing he had a cigarette to smoke, drink to drink, fucking anything to calm himself down.

“You’re acting like a fucking child, Mick,” Ian said.

“Bitch, I-” Mickey stopped himself. He wasn’t even sure what he was going to say, but it definitely wasn’t going to be anything nice.

Mickey could feel that heat of anger surge through his body. The anxiety building up to finally seeing Ian again, proposing to him, getting to spend some much needed time with him, all of it was ready to come out now in the form of shouting words, throwing fists, he didn’t really know what he was going to do, and didn’t want to find out.

He stomped the ground once and turned sharply in the direction they had been walking, fists clenched and keeping focused on the street ahead, not turning to see if Ian was following.

“Mick-” Ian shouted after him and then jogged to catch up with his man.

“Fuck off,” Mickey snapped. “I’m going back to the hotel.”

“You’re acting like a child,” Ian repeated. “Getting grumpy because you’re hungry and then storming off.”

“Fuck. Off.” Mickey repeated through gritted teeth, knuckles turning white now.

“You’re not gonna be able to get into the hotel room without my keycard,” Ian - the smug asshole - said.

Mickey just shook his head and continued marching to the hotel. He glanced at Ian a couple of times and caught his eyes, a daring look on both their faces, challenging the other to say something, but neither of them spoke. When they reached the hotel, Mickey finally turned to face Ian.

“You coming in, princess?” Mickey asked, spitting out the last word, still sounding very much pissed off.

“I’m going to get lunch.”

“Fine,” Mickey snapped and turned to go into the hotel, but then turned back around with his hand held out. “Gimme the fuckin’ key.”

Ian handed him the keycard and they exchanged scowls before turning and heading their separate ways.

Great. Fucking brilliant. Mickey gets two days with his man - _his fiancé_ before they’re apart for another month and a half, and he’s now spending it sulking in a hotel room by himself.

In the silence, Mickey reflected. He’d changed. Old Mickey probably would have threw a punch at Ian, or at least give a wall the force of his fist. Old Mickey would probably have cut it off with Ian right there and then and ran far away. Old Mickey would have fucking laughed at the thought of ever being engaged or married (especially after he accepted his sexuality).

Yes, Mickey had changed - changed for the better as well - but that didn’t change the fact that he was fucking angry as fuck and was too fucking angry to see he wasn’t really being reasonable.

He groaned and kicked the small table with frustration. He chucked his jacket on the floor and then stripped his t-shirt and threw that to join his jacket. Then he threw himself onto the bed to try and sleep off his frustrations.

***

There was a knock on the door, followed by an “It’s me, Mickey,” from Ian. Mickey grudgingly opened the door, and sighed sadly at the frowning redhead.

“Sorry,” Ian said quietly, eyes on the floor. “I brought you food, though,” Ian said, holding up the McDonald’s bag in his hand.

“I’m still pissed,” Mickey said and turned back into the room to continue sulking on the bed.

“About what, Mickey? Really, you have no reason to be so fucking pissy!” Ian groaned and chucked his coat and the food onto the table.

“I DON’T FUCKIN’ KNOW WHY, OK?” Mickey shouted, finding it really hard to keep his hands by his side with fists clenched and yearning to hit _fucking anything_.

“CHRIST, MICKEY! WE LITERALLY JUST GOT ENGAGED! WE SHOULD BE FUCKING HAPPY, NOT FUCKING SHOUTING ABOUT FUCK ALL!”

“YOU SAYING I CAN’T BE MAD?”

“I’M SAYING, YOU’VE GOT NO REASON TO BE!”

“FUCK YOU GONNA DO ‘BOUT IT?” Mickey challenged, standing up straight in front of the taller man, pushing his chest out to try and make up for the height that Ian had on him.

“You’re acting like a fucking child! You’re hungry and stressed and so you just throw a fucking tantrum instead of just admitting you’re stressed or some shit,” Ian lowered his voice, slowing his words, as he slowly realised what was up with Mickey.

Stress. Mickey was really fucking stressed, obviously. It was the first time seeing each other in a while - and they just got engaged - and Mickey had always struggled with stuff like the future.

“You stressed, Mickey?” Ian asked, risking placing his hand gently on Mickey’s cheek and sighing in relief when he didn’t instantly flinch away.

“Fuckin’ might be,” Mickey mumbled, slowly inching his body closer, pressing himself against the warmth of Ian’s body and relaxing.

“Here, calm down,” Ian softly said, holding Mickey close. “You’ve been a bit of a fuckin’ brat,” Ian grumbled, slowly getting an idea and just hoping Mickey would be in to it.

“Huh?” Mickey snapped his eyes up and looked at Ian. Ian didn’t seem like he was still angry, in fact, his hands were so gentle, travelling down his body and resting carefully on his ass.

“Throwing a fucking tantrum, storming off like that,” Ian tutted and grabbed a handful of Mickey’s beautiful ass, squeezing it and making him squirm. “Might have to teach you a lesson, huh?” Ian smirked.

Mickey raised an eyebrow at Ian, now forming his own ideas of what he wanted that redhead to do to him. “How do you plan on that then, ay?”

“Might have to spank you…” Ian said thoughtfully, testing the waters and checking that he and Mickey had the same ideas. When Mickey didn’t look completely shocked or revolted, and instead _fucking whimpered_ , Ian carried on. “Spank out your frustrations? Hit that pretty ass until you scream my name?”

Mickey bit down on his lip and let out a long breath. He looked up and made contact with those green lust-filled eyes.

“Do whatever the _fuck_ you want to me.”

Ian fucking shivered at the way Mickey said that. A heat of electricity surged right to his dick. He practically growled at Mickey before pulling him into a rough, biting kiss.

“Pants,” Ian growled as he sat down at the end of the bed.

Mickey made quick work of yanking his belt off and shoving his jeans aside. Ian patted his thigh and winked at Mickey, inviting him to lay across his lap.

“You good with this?” Ian asked, just to make sure that Mickey was comfortable and wanted this.

“Yeah. I need it,” Mickey confirmed.

Mickey lay down atop Ian’s lap, the rough denim of his jeans against his skin made him shiver, oddly intimidated and entirely intrigued. He shuffled so that his quickly hardening dick was against Ian’s thigh - perfect position to rut against and get some fucking friction - and so his ass was perfectly on show for Ian.

Ian placed a hand over one of his thick cheeks, squeezing a little and licking his lips.

“You think you could do ten?” Ian offered.

Mickey impatiently pushed his hips up and replied, “Yes. Now get the fuck on with it before I change my mind.”

“Count for me, baby,” Ian hummed as he raised his hand.

The first slap wasn’t too weak (he knew Mickey would probably call him something along the lines of ‘weak ass pussy shit’ if it was weak), but wasn’t too hard as he would work up to that. It was hard enough to have Mickey choke on a yelp.

“One,” Mickey said whilst Ian gently stroked where he’d just slapped. There was a short pause before Mickey spoke again, “Harder.”

Ian smirked to himself and made a little silent thank you note to whatever supernatural force had gifted him the amazing man that was Mickey Milkovich.

He did two hard slaps in quick succession.

“Fuck! Two. Three. Fuck.”

“If I’m gonna marry you, Mickey,” Ian thoughtfully said as he tenderly stroked Mickey’s hit ass. “You’re gonna have to learn to use your words and not just blow up when you get stressed, yeah?”

“Yeah - shit! - Four.”

Ian raised his hand from Mickey’s ass, leaving him anticipation whilst he panted and bit his lip in hopes to stop any shout.

He did another quick two.

“Five. Six,” Mickey hissed.

The pain was good and Mickey was horny as fuck. His dick was hard and pressed against Ian’s denim covered thighs. He tried to grind himself against Ian’s legs, but Ian had a tight grip on his sore ass, stopping him from moving.

“Nu-uh, you don’t get to do that,” Ian chided. “You just have to take the spanking, count, and listen to what I say. OK?”

Mickey groaned at first but nodded and said, “OK.”

“I can’t wait to marry you,” Ian happily said. “I’ll be such a good husband, take care of you like I know you’ll take care of me. You still want that?” he asked as he slapped him. “You still wanna be my fiancé?” he asked and slapped again.

“Yes. Fuck. I love you. I wanna be yours. I love you,” Mickey babbled, not forgetting to count: “Seven. Eight.”

“Soon we’ll be married and you’ll be all mine, Mickey. Won’t you?” Ian slapped his ass hard.

“Mhm. _Yes_!” Mickey agreed with a shout. “Nine.”

“Whose are you, Mickey? Whose ass is this?” Ian slapped the raw skin again, his final slap nice and hard and making Mickey kick his legs a little.

“Yours! I’m yours, Ian. _All yours_ ,” Mickey babbled, the sting on his ass so good.

Ian hummed and stroked the red and sore skin gently, admiring his handiwork. The glowing pink looked so pretty on Mickey’s usually pale always perfect thick ass.

“Good boy, Mickey,” Ian praised. “So good for me.”

Mickey bit back a whimper as he stood off Ian’s lap and practically fell onto the bed. Ian lowered himself on top of him, carefully taking one of Mickey’s hands in his and kissing his bitten lips.

Mickey arched himself up onto Ian, desperate to get some attention on his leaking cock. Ian moved their hands that were holding each other to Mickey’s dick, wrapping both their hands around it and taking control with slow strokes.

Ian stopped kissing to pull his face back and study Mickey’s.

“You good?”

Mickey nodded and sighed happily as Ian’s soft lips pressed to his neck.

“You feel better now?” Ian asked as he kissed Mickey’s neck softly.

“Mhm,” Mickey hummed, visibly so much more calm than he had been twenty minutes ago shouting and screaming.

Ian lazily kissed Mickey’s neck whilst shallowly grinding their bodies together, still working their hands on Mickey’s cock at a slow pace. Then Mickey smirked and pushed Ian a little, encouraging him to stand up.

“Huh?” Ian looked confused, worried he’d done something wrong.

“Get naked,” Mickey demanded.

Ian still looked a little lost and confused and stood there dumbfounded.

“I said,” Mickey started, raising an eyebrow and daring Ian to challenge him. “Get. Naked.”

The tables sure had fucking turned.

Ian blinked for a second before he frantically stripped himself. Mickey stood back from the bed, casually holding the lube in his hand and licking his lips as he watched his fiancé eagerly get naked for him.

“So, you’re gonna…” Ian raised an eyebrow, just checking that they were on the same page.

“You made me feel fuckin’ good,” Mickey started. “So, I’ma make you feel real - fuckin’ - good. If you want that, of course?”

“Fuck yeah.”

Mickey nodded towards the bed and Ian followed, getting on his knees and elbows and raising his ass for Mickey.

Mickey kneeled behind him, already coating a couple of fingers in lube, and admiring Ian’s thoroughly underappreciated ass.

“As much as I like to take it, I know a good ass when I see one, Gallagher. And yours is pretty good,” Mickey stated. “Not as good as mine, but still good.”

Mickey took his time to circle Ian’s rim, poking at the puckered hole with just enough pressure to make Ian push his ass back and chase his fingers. He pushed a finger in slowly, relishing the way Ian fucking _swallowed_ his finger.

When Mickey added a second finger to thrust in and out of him, Ian was finally starting to make some noise.

“Yes. Mmm,” Ian purred whilst Mickey’s fingers spread inside of him, scissoring him open.

Mickey grinned behind him, licking his lips and drinking in the sight of his fiancé. Ian was great at making Mickey come undone, melt beneath him, and moan his name, but two could play at that game, and Mickey made it his mission to prove that.

He pulled his fingers out. Ian whined quietly and pushed his ass back to follow, making Mickey chuckle at the eagerness.

“Flip over,” Mickey instructed, slapping Ian’s ass playfully.

Ian fell from his knees and turned to lie on his back, smirking as he watched Mickey check him out. (The bastard was hot and he sure as fuck knew it.)

Mickey lowered himself on top of Ian whilst his hand lubed up his cock and to kiss his man’s lips. Their bodies grinded perfectly together, they had been building up to _someone_ getting fucked for too long now.

Mickey finally broke apart from the kiss and shuffled to line himself up with Ian’s waiting and needy hole.

He started slow, pushing the first inch of his slicked cock inside of him, but Ian looked so fucking ruined - so fucking beautiful, Mickey grabbed his ass and pulled him on his dick, burying himself inside of Ian.

“Fuck, yes, Mickey,” Ian moaned, raising his hands to Mickey’s hair to grip.

Mickey rocked his hips, pulling his cock half way out of Ian, and then snapping them back and making Ian shout his name.

“I fuckin’ love you, fuck,” Mickey groaned and started to kiss Ian’s neck.

“Hnn- yeah-” Ian shut his eyes tight and nodded frantically. “I love you.”

Mickey’s cock was thick and hot inside of Ian, stretching him to the border of pleasure and pain and Ian _fucking loved it_. It was exciting to switch shit like this up occasionally.

Mickey took his face from Ian’s neck to look down at the beautiful redhead.

“Open your - fuck - eyes,” Mickey encourage and softly kissed him.

Ian’s eyes opened, settling on Mickey’s perfect blue ones.

“So good, so good,” Mickey muttered, as Ian started to clench around him. Mickey raised himself a little and, judging by the way Ian moaned, he’d gotten a better angle.

“ _Yes_ , there,” Ian murmured.

Mickey continued to thrust himself in and out at that angle, hitting and occasionally grinding at Ian’s prostate. Mickey groaned at the way Ian was coming fucking undone beneath him, muttering curses.

“Close,” Ian quietly said, clenching his ass tightly around Mickey’s cock. “Touch me.”

Mickey was close too and so quickly wrapped a hand around Ian’s dick, stroking it out of time with his movements but it didn’t really matter.

“Fuuuck,” Mickey groaned as he started to spill inside of Ian, coating his inner walls with his come.

As soon as Ian started to feel the wet heat of Mickey’s release, he also came. Mickey leaned down and kissed him through their orgasms, still working a lazy hand on Ian’s cock to pump every bit he could out.

When they were both spent and breathing somewhat normally, Mickey pulled out and fell to the space beside Ian.

“That was pretty fuckin’ good,” Mickey found himself quietly laughing, giant grin on his face.

“Mhmm,” Ian hummed happily. “How’s your ass?”

“Sore,” he shrugged. “How’s _your_ ass?”

“Amazing,” Ian laughed and kissed Mickey’s blushing cheek. “I love you,” he whispered in his ear.

“Yeah, yeah, love you too.”

Ian hummed in thought for a moment before he spoke again, “You serious about marrying me?”

“Huh?” Mickey turned and faced him, taken aback by the question because he was so fucking certain he wanted to marry Ian. “‘Course I am.”

“OK…” Ian nodded, biting his lip and looking like he still had something to say.

“What?” Mickey asked.

“Well…” Ian began. “Let’s do it.”

Mickey raised a quizzical eyebrow, “Do what?”

“Get married! Make you my husband?” Ian smiled, his dazzling green eyes on Mickey.

Mickey furrowed his brow, confused. “Yeah, that’s why we’re engaged, you know… to be married.”

“No, no, I mean, get married now. Tomorrow! Sorry, is that too soon? It’s fine if you don’t want to… Just an idea,” Ian’s smile faded and self-consciousness took over.

“Ay, of course I wanna marry you,” Mickey reassured. “I’m not busy tomorrow…”

Ian smiled again, “There’s a place like twenty minutes from here, we can go tomorrow.”

“Shit,” Mickey sighed. They were really going to do this. “What about your family?”

Ian shrugged, “I wanna marry you tomorrow, Mickey.”

“You really wanna do this?” Mickey asked. He definitely wanted to marry Ian, oh fuck, he loved the man so fucking much. But Mickey always had doubt about himself, worried he wasn’t good enough for Ian.

“I really do,” Ian said and kissed him to reassure him. “I know we’re both young, but, that kinda makes it more fun. We get married officially, sign that piece of paper, consummate the marriage,” Ian winked. “And we don’t tell anyone.”

“Isn’t that the point, though? Telling people so they know you’re married?”

“Don’t you think getting eloped is romantic? Hot even?” Ian grinned widely with a dreamy look on his face. “Then when we’re ready to tell people, we’ll have a classic ghetto wedding at home in the Alibi and all our dumb friends and family can be there.”

Mickey nodded thoughtfully. There was that young - rebellious, even - excitement to eloping with the man he loved. And it could happen tomorrow. The thought made his body heat and tingle, forcing a big grin on his face.

“We should fuckin’ do it. Fuck yeah,” Mickey agreed, grabbing Ian’s face, squishing his cheeks, and kissing him deeply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!  
>  OK, i don't know what came over me to write that SMUT, and then have them decide to get married, but I love it ahah. I just want them to be happy aaaaaaahhhhhh. I do hope you liked this chapter! <3


	36. Chapter Thirty Five

Mickey was still awake late in to the night. So late that it was probably very early into the next day, and therefore the day he was going to marry Ian.

Holy shit.

They were actually fucking doing it.

Mickey smiled to himself at the thought. He took Ian’s left hand that was draped over his body, and intertwined their fingers. He thought. Rings! Shit, they’d have to buy rings. And something nice to wear. Fuck, the nicest thing Mickey had was a dark blue button up. Shit. Fuck. Now Mickey was getting stressed.

He slowly started untangling himself from Ian, with the intention of leaving the bed and going to splash his face in the bathroom and calm himself the fuck down.

“ _Nooooooo_ ,” Ian whined quietly behind him and held Mickey around the middle tightly so he couldn’t leave. “Don’t leave me, baby.”

“I thought you were asleep,” Mickey quietly replied, still subtly trying to get out of Ian’s grip.

“I can’t sleep. I’m too busy _thinking_.”

“Too late to be thinking about shit,” Mickey mumbled. “I’m just gonna get a drink from the bathroom. I’ll only be a minute.

Ian sighed and reluctantly released the death grip he had on Mickey. Mickey left the bed and headed towards the en suite bathroom. When he reached the door, he turned around.

“Get some sleep. Can’t have ya fallin’ asleep on the big day, ay?” Mickey told him, smiling at the sleepy redhead.

Ian grinned at him for a second before pulling the sheets over his head and doing overly loud fake snoring, making Mickey laugh and shake his head at him.

When Mickey was finished in the bathroom, after washing his face with cold water and calming himself down, he went back into the bedroom.

Ian’s obvious fake snoring had disappeared and was replaced with normal breathing. He did look asleep though, so Mickey carefully lay down in the space next to him, trying to avoid nudging him and waking him up.

Mickey finally got into a position where he was comfortable and had managed to not wake Ian up.

“Fuck!” Mickey shout-whispered as Ian’s arms went around his waist and pulled their bodies together. “Thought you were sleeping?”

Ian inhaled the back of Mickey’s head and muttered, “Can’t sleep without you keeping me warm.”

Mickey rolled his eyes and turned over to face Ian. Ian grinned at him as he put his hands in their rightful place, gently stroking between Mickey’s waist and hips.

“You still wanna marry me?” Ian asked, still smiling at him.

“You gonna keep fuckin’ askin’ that?” Mickey raised his brow. Ian nodded, holding back a laugh at Mickey’s slightly-annoyed-slightly-amused face. “Yes. Of course I still wanna marry you, dumbass.”

“Good, ‘cause I also wanna marry you, dumbass,” Ian laughed.

“Now that we’ve established that, you wanna get some sleep?”

Ian shook his head, still grinning like the dumbass Mickey had said he was.

“I’m gonna be such a good husband for you, treat you _so good_ ,” Ian smirked, a hint of a growl on the _so good_.

“Mm, you better,” Mickey hummed, yawning on his last word.

“I’m so happy we’re doing this,” Ian smiled, slowly running his fingers through his soon-to-be-husband’s hair.

“Yeah, me too,” Mickey replied, smiling back.

Ian sighed and looked distant and lost in thought for a moment, biting his lip a little as he had an internal debate with himself.

“You OK?” Mickey asked.

Ian hummed and nodded, “Thinking again.”

“‘Bout what?”

“Hmm. When people get married, they usually do vows and shit. Tomorrow, we only have to sign a piece of paper and that’s it. But I got shit I wanna say to you.”

“Oh. What about when we get married at home?”

“Too late,” Ian shook his head. “Plus, it’s soppy as fuck, you’ll probably kill me for saying it all in front of people.”

“Yeah, I probably would,” Mickey laughed quietly. “Tell me now then.”

Ian sighed, “You really wanna hear it?”

Mickey kissed him to reassure him, “‘Course I do.”

“OK then,” Ian took a deep breath and started. “Growing up, I was always changing what I wanted to be when I was older. One minute I wanted to be an army officer, the next I thought I could be a musician. I didn’t even play an instrument,” he laughed. “At one point, I was convinced I could be a stripper my whole life.”

“You probably could, with that body,” Mickey grinned and then went quiet, letting Ian carry on.

“There was one thing I was certain of, though. I always wanted to be a good husband, and a good father. By marrying you, and letting me raise Wolf with you, you’re letting that dream come true.”

Ian leaned forward and kissed Mickey before continuing, “Thank you for being you, and loving me. I love you.”

Mickey was pink in the face and felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. He was a mess, full of love and lost for words, so he kissed his man, trying to make up for the words he couldn’t say.

Mickey eventually spoke, huffing out a nervous laugh before he did, “Is it my turn to say soppy shit now? You shoulda told me you were gonna spill your fuckin’ heart out, I woulda prepared something.”

Ian chuckled quietly with him, “You don't have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

“I do wanna say something though. You’ve said your gay shit, now it’s my turn.”

Mickey thought for a second before speaking. He considered going back to hard guy that didn’t care about love, but Ian had broken down that façade long ago. Truthfully, Mickey loved that soppy stuff, the words that made his heart flutter and the gentle touches that managed to set his body on fire.

“I never thought I’d live past my teenage years. Even if I did, then I thought I’d be in prison. I never thought I’d get married. I never thought I’d be a father and actually like it. I never thought I’d be happy.”

Mickey sadly sighed. His past never failed to make him feel so lonely and sad so quickly. The feeling faded quickly, however, when Ian’s fingers found their way to Mickey’s and intertwined so perfectly and calmly.

“I had no hope,” Mickey spoke again, his voice threatening to break at those words. “But you, Ian, you give me hope. You and Wolf. You give me a reason to wanna be alive and wake up in a world I used to fuckin’ hate. You make me feel like I’m loved, like someone actually cares about me. And I love that. And I love you.”

When Mickey was done, it was Ian’s turn to blush like mad. Ian got his own back though when he surprised him, rolling on top of him and kissing him passionately.

“Can’t wait to make you my husband,” Ian said against Mickey’s lips.

“We gonna sleep or we gonna fuck?” Mickey questioned, they were both half hard now from the kissing and bit of grinding, it could go either way.

“Well you’re not really supposed to have sex before you get married.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow, “And what we’ve been doing for months before today wasn’t having sex?”

“Let’s go to sleep, get our energy up. Then tomorrow, we can get married and then come back here and consummate the fuck outta of our marriage,” Ian enthusiastically said.

“And to consummate is…?”

“Making love to your sweet ass,” Ian grinned.

“I’m good with that plan,” Mickey grinned back and kissed his man again.

Mickey turned around and pressed himself back against Ian, relaxing when Ian threw an arm around him and buried his head in the back of his neck.

Ian’s hand stroked down Mickey’s chest, teasing his nipples for a moment, making Mickey squirm, and then moving his hand further down.

“What happened to _waiting_?” Mickey said, but made no move to remove Ian’s hand.

“What? Handjobs don’t count…” Ian reasoned as his hand trailed further, stopping at the waist of his underwear.

Mickey hummed in agreement. “What about blowjobs?”

Ian let out a short, quiet chuckle, before grabbing Mickey by the hips, flipping him onto his back and straddling him, effectively pinning him down.

“Blowjobs definitely don’t count,” Ian grinned and dived his face down to kiss Mickey’s neck.

Mickey giggled at Ian’s enthusiasm, but quickly turned to moaning when Ian sucked and bit a trail on his neck, down his collarbone, kissing his nipples, kissing and nipping further down, until reaching his boxers again.

Ian braced his hands on either of Mickey’s thighs, stroking the warm skin slowly. Mickey let it happen for a moment, but quickly grew impatient and kicked his fiancé to make him _hurry the fuck up_.

Finally, Ian tugged at Mickey’s underwear and pulled Mickey’s half hard cock out. He stroked him several times, quickly bringing him to full hardness, before swiping his tongue slowly across the tip.

Mickey’s hands went to Ian’s hair, threading through the red strands and grumbling, “Hurry the fuck up.”

Ian laughed and, to Mickey’s dismay, moved his face further from his cock. “I’ll take as long as I want, baby, and you’re gonna lie there and enjoy it, OK?”

“You’ll be the fuckin’ death of me, I swear,” Mickey groaned, too tired and now too horny to bother to be annoyed at Ian.

Ian’s mouth went back to Mickey’s cock, still just licking the head and swirling his tongue to work a quiet gasp out of Mickey. Then Ian licked a flat stripe from the base to tip on the underside of his cock and finally wrapped his lips around the head.

“Mhm,” Mickey quietly hummed as Ian’s head went lower down, taking more of his dick into his mouth.

Ian sucked all the way to the root of his cock, and with his mouth full, he swallowed around him and hummed, the sensation making Mickey moan Ian’s name and give in to the urge to thrust his hips up.

Ian pulled his head up halfway, and then sank back down, bobbing up and down on Mickey’s cock.

“Fuck yeah,” Mickey whispered, stuttering his hips as Ian sucked with more passion.

As Ian pulled his head up, saliva dribbled from his mouth and he used that as slick to stroke what wasn’t in his mouth. Ian felt Mickey’s grip in his hair tighten, and the continuing muttering of curses stopped.

“ _Ian_ ,” Mickey groaned as Ian’s mouth stilled around the head of his dick and swallowed all of his release.

When Mickey finished, Ian slowly pulled off and smirked up at Mickey, intentionally wiping the shimmering fuck-knows-what off his lips.

“Come here,” Mickey murmured. Ian kissed the inside of his thigh and then crawled up to him and tried to kiss him, but Mickey shook his head. “Nah, dumbo, your cock.”

“Of course,” Ian sarcastically laughed and crawled further, awkwardly holding the headboard but giving Mickey a good angle for sucking dick.

Mickey just slapped his thigh at his sarcastic tone, before yanking down Ian’s boxers and instantly taking half his cock in his mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” Ian’s eyes fell shut and he gripped the bed a little tighter.

Mickey’s lips and tongue and mouth worked expertly around his cock, sucking, swallowing and humming with fucking vigour.

Ian was already halfway there from sucking Mickey off, and as soon as Mickey pulled his mouth completely off Ian and said, “Come down my throat, baby,” Ian was fucking gone.

Ian managed to collapse in the space besides Mickey and not on top of him. Mickey grabbed his face and pulled him into a wet, messy kiss.

“Love ya,” Mickey muttered and turned over to let Ian spoon him.

“Love you too,” Ian mumbled into Mickey’s neck.

***

Ian’s alarm on his phone woke them both up early in the morning. They both tried to ignore it at first, wiggling their way further beneath the covers and keeping their eyes firmly shut.

“Turn that shit off,” Mickey groaned and kicked Ian.

Ian didn’t move, feigning sleep in hopes that Mickey would be the one to move and turn it off. A minute passed of listening to the annoying tune, then Mickey kicked Ian again.

“Turn that shit off,” Mickey repeated.

Ian groaned and yawned exaggeratingly, before finally throwing an arm out, fumbling for a second and then turning the alarm off.

They both rubbed their eyes, yawned some more, and stretched before waking up properly. After all, they didn’t go to sleep until late last night.

“Morning, husband,” Ian flashed a playful smile.

It was way too fucking early in the morning for Mickey to even try to play along. “Not fuckin’ yet.”

“You excited?” Ian asked, whilst attempting (and failing) to make Mickey laugh by tickling his sides.

“I guess,” Mickey grunted in response.

“You guess?” Ian dramatically gasped.

“Mhm.”

Then Ian suddenly jumped on him, straddling his legs on either side of Mickey and grinning down at him. “Gonna make you my bitch,” he laughed.

Mickey screwed his face up, a final desperate attempt to fake his grumpiness. But alas, he couldn’t hold the act up as Ian went back to poking and tickling his sides. He cracked just a small smile first, and then started full on laughing alongside Ian.

“Fuck. Off. Gallagher,” Mickey managed to huff out between his laughter.

“You still wanna marry me?” Ian asked as he stopped his tickling-torture.

Mickey gave him an _are you serious_ look. Whilst Ian was reading his face, Mickey used this distraction to quickly sit up and wrestle Ian onto his back, now Mickey was straddling him and had the advantage.

“I’ll marry your ass a hundred fuckin’ times if I have to to get you to stop fuckin’ asking that,” Mickey grinned at him. “Of course I still wanna marry you. I love you.”

Ian smiled back, looking up at his very-soon-to-be husband. He looked so beautiful. The early, orange morning sun lit up and made his pale skin glow. The shadows settled on his body, making him look like a perfect piece of art. And then those pale blue eyes, forever with a sparkle.

Mickey caught Ian staring (although, admittedly, he was staring at Ian) and looked down where his hands were sprawled on Ian’s chest.

“I love you,” Ian sighed, and Mickey stopped looking down in favour of looking into the green eyes looking back at him.

Mickey suddenly looked sad and distant for a moment. “I haven’t really got anything nice to wear.”

“That’s fine,” Ian said, sighing a little with relief as it wasn’t something massive that was making Mickey look sad like that.

“I’ve got my dark shirt and black jeans, closest to smart.”

“Mhm, I’ve got a shirt and some nice jeans as well. We’ll match.” Ian took one of Mickey’s hands and stroked his thumb across gently to calm and reassure him.

“What about rings? Fuck, I’m so fuckin’ sorry.” Mickey’s breathing and heart rate got quicker as he sank further into panic mode. He didn’t want to fuck this up for Ian. Not when Ian seemed so happy to marry him.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Ian soothed and reached a hand up to gently touch Mickey’s cheek and relax him. “We don’t need rings, not now. It’d kinda give away the fact we got married, wouldn’t it?”

Mickey steadied his breathing for a moment and nodded, “Yeah.”

Ian went to lean up and kiss him, but because of the way Mickey was half sat on his chest, he didn’t really reach. Mickey smirked and laughed at Ian’s attempt. Ian was about to scold him for it, but then Mickey leant down and met him halfway for the kiss.

“How about we get out of bed, get dressed, have something to eat, and then… I love you. Fuck. I love you so much, Mickey.”

Mickey kissed him again and nodded. “Let’s go get married.”

***

They were stood in a short line at the court house a couple of hours later. Mickey glanced anxiously up at Ian. Ian gave him a small smile that instantly calmed his nerves. He was nervous and excited at once, all his nerve endings tingling and on fire, but everytime he looked at those beautiful green eyes, he calmed.

When they finally stepped forward to the desk, Ian took Mickey’s shaking hand and stroked his thumb across his inked knuckles to silently let him know _It’s going to be OK_.

They handed ID over to the lady and she checked them. Satisfied with that, she nodded and handed them back. Then she flicked through some papers, typed on the computer, signed something and then pushed a paper and a pen their way.

“Sign here to say you are sane and able to consent to this marriage,” she pointed at a line and Ian signed, then she did the same for Mickey.

She typed on the computer again, reached for another form, wrote a couple of things down, and then handed the pen back to Ian.

“Sign here if you wish to marry Mr Milkovich,” she said and pointed at a line on the paper.

Ian took a look at Mickey first and they shared a small nod and a smile. Then he signed the paper. He was grinning at Mickey as he slid the paper his way and handed him the pen.

“And you can sign here if you wish to marry Mr Gallagher,” she pointed at the line beside where Ian had signed.

Ian gently, and reassuringly, squeezed Mickey’s hand under the desk and Mickey took a deep breath. He signed his full name across the line and slowly pushed the paper back towards the lady.

“Great” the lady smiled and signed as a witness, then handed it to the person at the other desk to also sign. When they had both signed, she quickly clicked and typed a couple of things on the computer and then handed the piece of paper they had both signed back to Ian and Mickey. 

“This is your marriage certificate. You are now legally wed, husband and husband,” she said and then stamped it. “And that stamp makes it valid across all fifty states.”

Mickey grinned down at the piece of paper. Just a piece of paper was making him so happy because it meant to much more. That piece of paper meant that the tall redhead he was stood by, was his husband. His fucking husband!

“Oh!” the lady exclaimed, pulling Mickey out of his daydream. “Whilst you’re here, you could also do a name change form, if you’d like to?”

Ian and Mickey looked at each other, a little uncertain. They hadn’t actually discussed name changes.

“I want to be a Milkovich,” Ian told him.

“Why?” Mickey asked. He wasn’t opposed to Ian being a Milkovich, in fact, he would like that. It was just that he was worried how his family would be if he changed his name.

“I know it’s just a name, but Lip and Carl’ll probably be the only Gallagher’s to keep that name. And I’d still be a Gallagher by blood, of course. But, I wanna be a Milkovich. Like you, and Wolf.”

Mickey thought for a quick second and rocked onto his toes to kiss his cheek, “Alright then.”

The woman reached for a different form and got Ian to sign a couple of things in order to change his name. “You’ll get the second half in the post within a couple of weeks, to make the name change official.”

“Thanks,” Ian said.

“Anything else I can help with today?”

“Uh, no thank you,” Mickey replied.

“Well, have a nice day,” she smiled. “And enjoy married life!”

It was unceremonious to the onlooking eye, but to Ian and Mickey, that amazing buzz they felt on the inside, made the moment so perfect.

They stood away, heading towards the door, when Mickey stopped and looked up at Ian.

“So that was it, huh?” Mickey smiled.

“Guess it was, _husband_ ,” Ian grinned back and cupped Mickey’s cheek.

For the first time in a while, Mickey’s first reaction to Ian doing anything remotely romantic in public wasn’t to pull away, instead he leant in and kissed him. His husband.

“So… how about we go make it official?” Ian suggested, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Fuck yeah,” Mickey replied, grabbing his _husband_ by the hand and dragging him out of that building and to their car.

***

They reached the door of their hotel room and Mickey took the keycard out of his pocket and almost swiped it before Ian snatched it from his hands.

“The fuck?” Mickey looked at Ian.

“Nu-uh,” Ian shook his head and smirked. “You’re forgetting something.”

“Uh…” Mickey squinted, trying to think what he’d forgotten. He shrugged and gave Ian a quick peck, “I love you?”

Ian chuckled and shook his head, “I love you too, but it’s not that.”

“Then what…” Mickey trailed off as Ian gave his hint and nodded towards the hotel door. “NO. No fuckin’ way, that’s just asking for something to go wrong, Ian.”

“Pleeeeaaaseee,” Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey and pulled him flush against him, begging in his ear. “Please, baby, it’ll make me so happy.”

Mickey wanted to be his usual stubborn self, but this was his fucking husband, and he wanted to make his husband happy. Plus, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

“Fine!” Mickey quickly gave in. “Only ‘cause you’re my husband and I wanna make you happy, or whatever.”

Ian kissed him and grinned, “Thank youuu.”

Mickey sighed, taking the keycard from Ian and opening the door, not walking in yet. “I must really fucking love you, _Mr Milkovich_ ,” Mickey dropped his grumpy look and now grinned up at his excited looking husband.

“And I really fucking love you too, _Mr Milkovich_ ,” Ian grabbed Mickey’s face, kissing him deeply and then pulling apart, raising his eyebrow.

“If you drop me, and I die, I’m gonna haunt your ginger ass forever,” Mickey warned.

Ian gave him a nod and a salute, failing at being serious and instead giggling his ass off. When he calmed, he carefully slid his arms under Mickey’s knees and his back, lifting him off his feet easily - bridal style of course.

Mickey felt surprisingly safe and secure in his husband’s strong arms. He draped an arm around Ian’s neck and leant in to kiss him.

Ian carried Mickey into the room, stepping over the threshold, half watching where he was going, but more distracted by his beautiful blue-eyed husband. He kicked the door closed behind him and gently placed Mickey onto the bed.

Ian crawled on top of him, kissing his neck and ear and cheek and tip of his nose, before landing on those perfect lips.

“Mm, wanna kiss you, mm, everywhere,” Ian mumbled in between kissing Mickey.

Mickey hummed in response, threading his fingers on one hand through Ian’s hair, and the other hand on his back to hold him closer.

“Gonna open you up nice and slowly,” Ian continued, “My fingers deep inside of you, stroking and scissoring you open so you’re ready for me.”

Mickey’s hips jerked up at the thought, grinding their bodies together and making them moan into each other’s mouths.

“Then I’ll make love to you, just like you deserve, my beautiful beautiful husband,” Ian crooned, sliding his hands over Mickey’s clothed body, making the skin underneath tingle and long to be touched.

Mickey was melting in such a sweet and romantic way at Ian’s soft words and careful hands, but also getting hot and horny and in desperate need for his husband to do exactly as he had said.

“Show don’t tell,” Mickey told him, slight smirk playing on his lips.

“Anything for you,” Ian smiled, kissing him once more, before pulling away again.

Ian’s hands fell to Mickey’s shirt collar. He fiddled with the collar and then fiddled with the first fastened button, not undoing it yet. Mickey held back the urge to roll his eyes and tell him to hurry the fuck up, because as much as he wanted to get a good fuck, he also wanted to go slow now and feel all that romantic connection shit with his _husband_.

Ian undid the button finally and then followed with the next two. He pushed some of the shirt away and traced his fingers underneath. Mickey’s breath sped up and he was almost certain Ian could feel his heart ready to beat out of his fucking chest.

The next couple of buttons came off slowly, and the remaining few were undone in quick succession. Ian pushed the shirt apart, not taking the shirt off yet, and this time braced his hands on Mickey’s chest, not just his fingers. He ran his hands up and down his sides, pressing slightly to feel the muscles or bone.

Ian sighed and tore his eyes away from his man’s chest to look at his beautiful face again. “I love you.”

Mickey smiled back, slightly open-mouthed and causing a dimple on his cheek, “Love you too.”

Mickey sat up a little to reach Ian, pressing their lips together with more frenzy and passion than before. He used this new angle to fully yank his shirt off himself and shove it aside.

“Shirt,” Mickey said as he took a quick breath and then kissed him again, this time with both their hands working quickly - albeit sloppily - on Ian’s shirt buttons.

When Ian’s shirt was finally off and discarded somewhere alongside Mickey’s, Ian pressed him back down on the bed, their chests now pressed together to feel the heat, the warmth, of the other.

Ian’s hands slipped up the side of Mickey’s body, giving him the perfect hold to be able to slip his thumbs to Mickey’s nipples. He swiped his thumbs just barely across them, ghosting over them slightly. The sensation made Mickey gasp loudly and he was thankful that most of that was muffled by Ian’s mouth. Then Ian’s thumbs pressed hard, moving in small circular motions. Ian pulled his lips away at the perfect moment. Not having Ian’s mouth to mute or muffle any sounds, Mickey let out a couple of small whimpers that played like music in Ian’s ears.

“F-fuck,” Mickey panted, arching his back up to Ian.

Ian moved from kissing Mickey’s mouth to kissing his jaw, neck, collarbone, chest, and then replacing one of his thumbs with his mouth. He kissed his sensitive nipple, opening his mouth and sucking gently. He pulled away and then gently did the same to the other.

He looked up at Mickey. His mind instantly started thinking about all that romantic and sentimental stuff like how did he get so lucky to make this man his husband, but he didn’t have time to think about that, now his only goal was to make his husband feel so good, so loved, so wanted, just like he deserved.

Ian continued to kiss Mickey’s chest and slowly trailed down his body, kissing past his abs and across his hips before reaching his pants. He looked up to Mickey just to be sure. Mickey nodded and lifted his hips up to make it easier, so Ian quickly undid the button and zipper and then pulled them down, also quickly taking his shoes and socks off with his pants. Then he went back for his boxers, taking his time to pull them down and expose every beautiful inch of Mickey’s skin.

Mickey spread his legs for Ian as ran his hands across his thighs, gripping occasionally and groaning. Ian started by placing a few kisses on the inside of one thigh, and then to the other. Then worked his way back to his hips and back again, stopping near Mickey’s cock that was so desperate waiting for Ian to touch it, suck it, anything.

“ _Please_ ,” Mickey moaned quietly and dropped his hands to Ian’s hair, but didn’t put any pressure to make him move to his cock. He trusted Ian with what he was doing.

Ian finally placed his tongue flat along the base and underside, making Mickey groan lowly at the anticipated warm contact, and then he slid his tongue up, all the way to the head. He circled around the head of Mickey’s cock before licking across it, tasting the already leaking precome. He wrapped his lips around him finally and sucked him all the way to the bottom.

“Yes - Ian—” Mickey couldn’t help thrusting his hips up and making Ian choke slightly.

Mickey was panicked for a short second and looked down to check if Ian was OK. Judging by the way Ian started to bob his head up and down on Mickey’s cock whilst also working a hand on what wasn’t in his mouth, Mickey guess he was more than OK.

Ian continued to suck and lick his husband’s dick, the sounds he was drawing out of him were practically heavenly and made Ian’s own cock throb hard inside his pants. Ian reached a hand down to undo his zipper and pull his jeans down his thighs a little, just enough to relieve some of the pressure.

“Please, Ian, fuck,” Mickey muttered above him, clenching his thighs around Ian as he did so.

Ian pulled his lips off of Mickey’s cock and looked up at him, “What do you want, baby?”

“You,” Mickey panted, “Inside of me. Showing me just how good my new husband can give it, ay?”

Ian groaned and licked his lips. He jumped off the bed, quickly pulling off his pants and shoes and underwear, and then climbed back on top of Mickey and kissing him hard. 

Now that they were both naked, it was so much better. Their skin seemed to tingle and ignite where they touched. Mickey moved one of his hands from Ian’s back to grab and stroke his cock. Ian moaned into Mickey’s mouth at the long awaited contact.

“Come onnn,” Mickey mumbled, giving Ian a playful slap on the side of his thigh.

Ian smiled and gave him one more kiss before leaning over and getting the lube. He slicked two fingers and moved down Mickey’s body. He circled Mickey’s rim, wiping lube around it as he did so, but still didn't’ push his fingers in.

“Fuck - yeah -” Mickey gasped as Ian finally pushed a finger inside of him.

He drug his finger in and out slowly a couple of times before adding his second finger. Mickey whimpered slightly, arching his back and pushing his ass down on his husband’s fingers.

He thrust them in and out quickly, making Mickey gasp and curse, and then slowed. With his fingers deep inside of Mickey, he moved them in small motions, prodding and stroking and looking for-

“ _Ian_ , fuck me,” Mickey moaned, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

“One second,” Ian muttered.

He spread his fingers apart a couple of times, spreading Mickey slowly open. Hen he finally pulled his fingers out and squeezed more lube onto his hand. He stroked and slicked his cock up before chucking the bottle aside and taking a moment to let his eyes rake over his husband’s beautiful and needy body.

When his eyes met with Mickey’s, he closed them and leant down to kiss him. Still kissing him, he reached his hand down between them, lifting Mickey’s leg up on his hip, and lining his cock up.

As he started to push in, he stopped kissing Mickey so he could hear every little gasp and moan as he was stretched out. He slowly pushed in until he finally bottomed out. They were both still and silent apart from breathing heavily, until Mickey clenched around Ian, moving his ass a little and moaning, “Move.”

Ian pulled back, pulling half of his cock out, before thrusting in somewhat quickly. He moved his hips, dragging his dick almost all the way out before snapping them back forward and filling Mickey up again.

Mickey clenched and squirmed underneath him, muttering curses and his name, and kissing him until they were both breathless.

Mickey wrapped his legs around Ian’s hips, hoisting himself up a little and changing the angle. The new angle was so much better. Everytime Ian thrust in, the head of his cock pushed straight against his prostate, making Mickey see stars and lose his fucking breath.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Ian groaned as he wrapped his hand around Mickey’s cock, pumping and stroking it in time with his thrusts.

He pressed deep inside of Mickey, pushing right against his prostate, and circled his hips a little, grinding against that spot.

“Cl-close, fuck-” Mickey choked, biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut. 

Ian leant in to press his lips to Mickey’s. He thrust deep inside of Mickey, swallowing up the small yelp and moan.

“I love you, I love you, Ian,” Mickey muttered as they pulled away to breathe.

“Fuck, Mickey,” Ian groaned and dropped his head, their foreheads pressing together.

As soon as Ian started to come, his cock buried deep inside of Mickey and filling him with his release, Mickey followed, coming in between them and half-shouting half-moaning Ian’s name.

Mickey clenched around Ian a couple of times and shook slightly through his orgasm before calming down and slowly taking control of his breath.

Ian gave him a small kiss before he pulled out and rolled into the space beside him. He quickly grabbed a towel, wiped them both up, and then lay back down on his back.

“I’m so happy,” Ian declared, turning his head to look at Mickey.

“Yeah?” Mickey smiled at him.

“Yeah,” Ian confirmed, smiling back at him and kissing his softly. “I’m so happy we did it, _husband_.”

“Yeah, so am I. I fuckin’ love you, Gallagher.”

“Not gonna be a Gallagher for much longer, remember?” Ian laughed.

“Oh fuck, yeah. I’ll probably still be callin’ you Gallagher out of habit though.”

They chuckled quietly for a moment before calming down and sighing contently and happily. Ian’s smile faltered a little as he came back to reality and remembered that this was their last day.

“Fuck,” Ian whispered sadly.

“Huh? What’s up?” Mickey asked, concerned at Ian’s sudden change.

“You’re leaving tomorrow,” he stated.

“Oh.”

“Please stay,” Ian quietly and sadly said,

Mickey sighed and groaned a little. He wanted to stay, holy fuck he wanted to stay. “I can’t, Ian. I’ve got Wolf, and work, and if I don’t work then we’d really be in trouble, won’t we?”

Ian nodded as he listened but was still reluctant to accept that he wouldn’t be seeing his husband for another month and a half after this.

“We’ll Skype everyday, I’ll even get Wolf on for some of them, yeah? I’ll even make those fuckin’ cookies that I think are shit, but you seem to love, for when you get back. And we’ll have the best fuck ever when you get home.”

Ian laughed a little and looked back at Mickey, “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too. There’s also - uh - another surprise when you get back,” Mickey smirked, he still hadn’t told Ian about his new job.

“And that is?” Ian asked, quickly changing from sad and deflated to more excited.

“It wouldn’t be a fuckin’ secret if I told you, dumbass,” Mickey grinned. “It’s a good surprise, I promise.”

Ian raised his brow expectantly, waiting for Mickey to give more information, but Mickey shook his head and kissed him.

“Sleep?” Ian suggested as he watched Mickey yawn loudly.

“Mhm, sleep,” Mickey agreed and cuddled closer to Ian, letting himself be wrapped in his arms.

“I love you,” Ian murmured, kissing his husband’s forehead.

“Love you too,” Mickey said back, tilting his head up and giving his husband a goodnight kiss, before closing his eyes and falling asleep in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I am SO sorry this took so long! It is double the length of the previous chapter to try and make up for that haha. I think I burnt myself out writing so much - including some unpublished stuff - as well as some things in life already exhausting me. I did really enjoy writing this chapter though, I just like making our boys happy!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the update. Thanks for your patience, much love <3


	37. Chapter Thirty Six

_**Day Fifty** _

Mickey lay atop his sheets in the late night with Wolf curled asleep at his side. He idly stroked his fingers through the soft, dark tuft of hair on they boy’s head as he continued to quietly hum the lullaby that had long since lulled his son to sleep.

He was happy in that moment; content. His happiness was only somewhat tainted by the fact his husband wasn’t there to spend the moment with him.

His husband. Shit, he’d never get bored of saying and thinking that. It meant so much to him. It meant someone loved him enough to want to spend the rest of their life with him. Even though they were both young, they were both so fucking certain this was what they wanted.

Wolfgang murmured in his sleep and then shifted a little, freeing Mickey’s arm. Mickey used this new-found freedom to sit up and grab his laptop.

He switched it on, logged in, and then opened the Skype programme. As expected, Ian wasn’t online. (It was almost one in the morning in Albany after all.) He sent a quick message anyway in hopes he’d come online.

Less than a minute later, the little incoming call icon popped up and Ian was calling him. Mickey quickly answered it, smiling at his screen.

“Hey, Mi-”

Mickey straight fucking panicked; slamming his finger on the mute key and then stared at Wolf for a couple of seconds to make sure he didn’t wake. Wolf kicked his leg a little, but continued his sleeping. Mickey sighed with relief and then looked back at Ian, who appeared to be mouthing words because he was muted.

Mickey watched as Ian ranted for a minute before finally sending the message to tell him that he hadn’t heard a word.

**mickeymilkovichsucks:** _ur muted. wolf is asleep_

Mickey watched Ian rant for a couple more seconds before his eyes spotted the message and he half-laughed, half-frowned a he typed his reply.

**iangallaghersucksmore:** _I literally just explained my entire day in three minutes and now you wanna make me explain it again??_

**iangallaghersucksmore:** _You changed my username?? HOW_

He chuckled quietly to himself, grinning at Ian’s shocked face, and then typed a message.

**mickeymilkovichsucks:** _payback for my username bitch. plus ur password is so fucking easy to guess (im flattered btw) xoxoxox_

Mickey felt pleased with himself at his use of sarcastic xoxo’s - even though he really did want to give Ian what the xoxo’s represented no matter how dumb or cheesy that seemed.

**iangallaghersucksmore:** _I love youuuu xoxoxoxox_

So two could play at the sarcastic xoxo game… Mickey cracked his knuckles, ready to reply with an equally sarcastic ‘I love you’ (even though he really did love him).

**mickeymilkovichsucks:** _i love you too xoxoxoxo_

Mickey looked smugly away from his keyboard and back to Ian’s grinning, blushing face. All the spite within him melted instantly just from looking at his husband’s dorky face.

**iangallaghersucksmore:** _Go put Wolf in his cot. I wanna be able to talk to my husband… Privately._

Ian smirked at Mickey and raised his brow. Mickey didn’t need much more convincing than that.

He carefully stood off the bed and slowly picked Wolf up. Luckily, Wolf didn’t stir from the transition of bed to chest, and instead just cuddled his face closer against Mickey’s chest and carried on sleeping.

Mickey walked out of the bedroom and into the living room to Wolfgang’s cot. He carefully placed the boy down and stood away, giving it a moment to make sure he didn’t suddenly wake up.

Silence - apart from quiet heavy breathing.

Mickey relaxed, satisfied that Wolf was going to stay asleep, and went back into the bedroom, closing the door shut behind him so he could talk rather than type.

“Hey,” Mickey said as he sat down and unmuted Ian.

“Hey,” Ian said back. “Now get your shirt off,” he added with a mischievous grin.

“Straight fuckin’ to it, huh?” Mickey chuckled but still slowly removed his shirt and tossed it aside. “Your turn, Red.”

Ian yanked his t-shirt over his head and smiled at the way Mickey was staring at him like he was the most beautiful thing in the world.

Ian looked beautiful, even in a dark hotel room with just the light of his laptop making him glow.

“No show for me?” Mickey finally said, referencing the fact that Ian put no effort into stripping himself of his t-shirt.

“Why? You want a show?” Ian smirked.

“I want you to get naked, don’t care how we get there though,” Mickey shrugged and licked his lips.

Mickey nodded as Ian pushed the laptop back, giving Mickey more of a view of him, and got onto his knees. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his sweatpants and smirked. Just as he was about to start pulling them down, he stopped–

“Is that Wolf?”

“What?” Mickey blinked, suddenly pulled out of the little hazy, dreamy state he seemed to be in. 

Then Mickey’s ears tuned into it.

“Dada! Dada! Dada!” Wolf’s half-cry half-shouts came from the living room.

“Fuuuck,” Mickey rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Go see what he wants,” Ian sighed too.

“Aight, this isn’t over yet,” Mickey said before jumping off the bed and heading to go see what was up with Wolf.

When Mickey walked into the room, Wolf was stood up in his cot, but luckily didn’t seem like he was really in distress, probably just wanted attention.

“Dada!”

“What is it, little Wolf?” Mickey asked and squatted to his level.

“Dada. dada,” Wolf repeated, reaching his arms out to Mickey.

Mickey wanted to tell him to try and sleep, but he just couldn’t resist those big adorable blue eyes, threatening to cry if he didn’t get his way.

Mickey stood up and wrapped his hands around Wolf, picking him up and holding him to his chest. Wolf squealed happily and kicked his legs, giggling loudly as Mickey tickled his stomach.

“Come on, come one, let’s go see Ian,” Mickey smiled and Wolf perked up even more at the sound of Ian’s name.

“Yay yeah,” Wolf wiggled in Mickey’s hold, desperate to race to Ian.

Mickey carried him through the living room and back into the bedroom. He placed Wolf on the bed as he quickly put a t-shirt on and then picked him up again.

“Say hi to Papa Ian!” Mickey grinned as he sat Wolf on his lap and looked to the screen.

Ian smiled widely and the sappy fuck looked close to tears. Wolf tried to escape from Mickey to grab the screen but Mickey held him somewhat still, his focus still on how stupidly beautiful Ian looked.

“Papa Ian?” Ian repeated, clutching his heart dramatically. “Miiiickey!”

“PAPA IAN!” Wolf shouted, wriggling from Mickey’s grasp and diving at the screen, knocking the laptop off the bed.

Mickey groaned and picked it up from the floor, sitting back down with Wolf held in a better position to stop him from attacking the screen again.

Ian was still smiling, and clutching his heart, and still muttering ‘Papa Ian’ in disbelief.

Mickey didn’t even want to tell him to ‘not get sappy on me, Gallagher’, in fact, Mickey himself was feeling what Ian was right now.

“Yeah, well you said you wanted us to be a family,” Mickey tried to play it cool, suddenly feeling shy. “He calls me Dada, so why not call you Papa, right?”

“I love you so so much.”

“I love you so so much, too, ya sappy fuck,” Mickey grinned at his husband.

 

_**Day Seventy One** _

Things had surprisingly been easy. They celebrated thirty days left last night by getting drunk together whilst on Skype until they fell asleep, and they were both pretty optimistic that these last thirty days would be easy since they had managed to survive seventy one days.

Things got a little rocky when Mickey was at work the next day.

He was bent over the hood of a car, nose deep in the engine, and trying to find the right screw for the right part . His phone started ringing but he decided to let it ring out and call the person back after he was done with this little thing.

“Mickey’s busy at the moment, sorry,” Mike said behind him.

At first, Mickey didn’t quite realise, his focus was still on this dumb screw.

“Yeah, he’s suckin’ dick, of course,” Mike said with a laugh. “Calm down, calm down, I’ll get him!”

It was when Mike tapped Mickey on the back and held his phone out with an innocent look on his face, that Mickey knew he was fucked.

Mickey snatched the phone from Mike’s hand and wandered away from the rest of the people working so he could talk.

“Hey?” Mickey said, praying and hoping that it wasn’t Ian on the other end of the line.

“Sucking dick, huh? Whose dick you sucking, Mickey?” Ian replied. Fuck.

“That was just Mike, he’s just being an asshole,” Mickey defended.

Ian scoffed. “Mike? I’ve never heard of ‘Mike’? You sucking Mike’s dick?”

“Ian, what the fuck? I’m not sucking anyones dick,” Mickey quietened his voice, not wanting to let his coworkers hear him. “He’s just some guy. Don’t worry about it.”

“Just some guy? Right. We just got fucking married, and I wanna do the right thing and not just jump to conclusions, but you’re being real fucking suspicious.”

“Ian, I’m sorry, fuck! I was just bent over a car, trying–”

“Oh! You were bent over a car, right? Why were you bent over a car?” Ian laughed the laugh that Mickey recognised as his ‘I’m really mad at you to be honest, and I’m hurting, but I’m just gonna laugh because I can be a sarcastic fuck when I want to be’ laugh.

“I was fixing the fuckin’ car! Why the fuck are you just assuming something outta fuckin’ nothing? Ian, I-” Mickey wanted to add ‘I love you’ to let his husband know he was being crazy, but he couldn’t risk his coworkers hearing - especially since Mike already knew it was a guy on the other end of the line.

“First of all, I call your phone and some random guy picks up and tells me you’re sucking dick. Then you tell me that Mike is just ‘some guy’, no explanation. Then you tell me you were ‘bent over’ a car and then claim you were ‘fixing it’? Why the fuck are you fixing a car? You’re making no fucking sense! What the fuck am I supposed to think! I’m eight hundred fucking miles away, not close enough to come and stop my _husband_ from finding someone better than me! Fuck!”

Mickey half wanted to scream at Ian and tell him he was being fuckin’ ridiculous, but also half wanted to comfort him and reassure him there was no way he would ever cheat on him. But before Mickey could say anything else, Ian spoke first.

“I gotta go,” Ian grumbled and hung up.

Fuck.

“Who was that?” Mike asked as Mickey walked back into the main part of the garage.

“Just some guy I owe money to,” Mickey shrugged and then continued his work.

***

At home, after Wolf had gone to sleep, Mickey settled in his room and dialled Ian’s phone number. It rang out and he didn’t answer and Mickey was prompted to leave a voicemail.

“Hey, it’s Mickey, call me back,” Mickey said and hung up.

Mickey sighed and turned on his laptop, deciding to watch some Netflix and call Ian later. When he turned it on, he also checked Skype and saw that Ian was online.

**mickeymilkovichsucks:** _hey_

Not long after, the two ticks appeared and let him know that Ian had read it. Mickey waited a moment for a reply, but he quickly realised that he wasn’t getting one so instead he tried calling him again, this time on Skype.

It rang twice before the other end hung up.

‘Great,’ Mickey thought. ‘Still mad.’

**mickeymilkovichsucks:** _pick up_

**mickeymilkovichsucks:** _i wanna talk_

Still, no reply.

**mickeymilkovichsucks:** _please talk to me, im worried_

Mickey sent that message an hour after the others. It was true, he was worried. He was worried what Ian thought of him. But the more he worried, the more angry he got. He was angry that Ian would think he would cheat on him.

**mickeymilkovichsucks:** _ur kinda being ridiculous ian. pick up ur fucking phone we need to talk._

**iangallaghersucksmore:** _I don’t wanna talk._

And that was the only interaction he got from Ian that night.

 

_**Day Seventy Three** _

Ian blanked Mickey the whole of the next day, and the whole of the next. Mickey thought he would have calmed down over time, but it was only making him more agitated and more annoyed that this had happened.

He hadn’t spoken or even got to see Ian’s beautiful smiling face on a screen for almost three days, and it was breaking him.

Mandy had offered to take Wolfgang for the night and Mickey - desperate to get drunk and calm the fuck down - jumped on the offer. Once Wolf had been dropped off with Mandy, Mickey got home and went straight to the freezer to take out a bottle of cold vodka and pour himself a glass.

He drank it quickly, grimacing slightly at the burn and the taste. It didn’t take long for the drink to get him riled up and angry. He collapsed onto the couch and grabbed his phone, entered Ian’s number and waited as it rang.

With each little ‘beep’, he got even more ready. He was ready to shout at the shitty voicemail message he’d been hearing too much.

Except, the voicemail message didn’t come. Instead–

“Hey,” came the quiet voice of Ian.

All the anger Mickey had worked up disappeared, and left him with an overwhelming sadness and longing to be able to hold his husband in his arms and let him know he’d never cheat on him.

“I’m sorry,” Ian spoke again before Mickey said anything. “I should have let you explain before going crazy.”

“I’m sorry too. Mike’s the new guy at the Alibi that Kev might’ve told you about. He got to my phone before I could and just thought he was funny.”

OK, so it wasn’t the whole truth, but Mickey was still saving the whole ‘getting a job in a garage’ thing for when Ian came back.

“It’s fine. I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you. I’ve been so stressed and I was worried if we spoke, I’d say something I’d regret.”

They were both silent for a moment.

Then Mickey said what he’d been dying to say for three days now, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Mickey.”

_**Day Eighty** _

After that, luckily, things went back to normal, if not better. It was almost liked they needed those couple of days without each other, even though they missed each other.

“I miss your dick, man,” Mickey said one night when they were talking on Skype video chat.

“What about the rest of me?” Ian laughed and raised his brow.

“Yeah, yeah, I miss all of you, but right now? I need your fuckin’ cock,” Mickey whined. 

It had been too fucking long since he’d gotten off, he didn’t always find the time and even when he did, it just wasn’t good enough. It especially sucked because he was married to a guy packing nine inches and yet he wouldn’t get to feel that for another ten days.

“It’s a week and a half left, Mickey, and once I get home, I’ll fuck you so good you’ll be feeling me for days,” Ian smirked.

Mickey just groaned at the thought. “You’re not fuckin’ helping talking like that.”

Ian chuckled, deciding to push and tease Mickey further. “Remember the week before I left, you brought those handcuffs to me and I said I wasn’t sure?”

“Mhm,” Mickey nodded and bit his lip, quickly glancing at the drawer he’d dumped them in and forgotten about.

“How ‘bout I use them on you when I get home, huh?”

“Fuckin’ please.”

“I’ll cuff your hands behind your back, bend you over, and have my way with you, baby. I know you’ll take it so so well. I’ll tease the fuck outta you when your hands are behind your back, make you desperate to grab hold of me. I’ll—”

The laptop screen went black.

“WHAT?” Mickey half-screamed, remembering that Wolf was asleep.

Mickey stared at the screen for a second, willing it to turn back on.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Mickey muttered as he shook the device; he wasn’t really a tech genius.

He went to grab his phone to call Ian and explain the computer just broke, but Ian was already calling him first.

“The computer just fuckin’ broke!” Mickey accusingly said.

“You sure it wasn’t just the battery?”

“Huh?”

“Is it on charge?” Ian asked.

“On charge? How the fuck am I supposed to know?” Mickey spat and stopped shaking the laptop to try and get Ian’s face back on it.

Ian laughed, “You’re so hopeless, Mickey. I love you. I’ll explain the charge thing tomorrow, but for now, where were we?”

“But I wanna see you!”

“Do you wanna spend twenty minutes trying to fix the thing to see me, or do you wanna get off?” Ian offered.

“Fuck, fine, I wanna get off,” Mickey mumbled, slightly pissed he didn’t get to look at his sexy husband at the same time. “You were tellin’ me what you were gonna do with the - uh - cuffs.”

“Ah, yeah,” Ian’s voice went a little lower as he half-moaned, half-yawned. “I was going to say that I’d cuff your hands behind your back and then suck your dick, but _really_ slowly. I’ll take my time to take all of you in my mouth and I’ll be so good, so warm, so wet around your cock. And I’ll hold your hips down so you can’t do anything but moan my name.”

“Mhmm,” Mickey moaned and got under the sheets, settling for a comfy position where he could hold his phone with one hand and listen to Ian, and keep the other free for...well...just in case.

“Strip but leave your boxers on,” Ian instructed.

Mickey laughed a little but still took of his t-shirt and sweatpants and pushed them off the bed.

“What’s so funny?” Ian asked.

“Nothin’, nothin’. Just, I’m wearing your boxers,” Mickey laughed again.

“Mm, yep, that’s hot,” Ian huffed a laugh and went quiet for a moment to - what Mickey guessed because of the sound of ruffling sheets - get comfier. “Fuck, I wish you were here right now.”

“Ugh,” Mickey groaned at the thought of Ian alone, and his sex-clouded mind was imagining what he would do to and with Ian if they were alone together. “What would you do if I was there?”

Mickey could almost hear Ian smirk as he let his imagination run with images and thoughts of everything they could do.

“Well, I’d trace my fingers from your jaw, down your neck, and across your chest, slowly circle a nipple, and then pinch-”

“Fuck,” Mickey gasped, as he took one of his nipples somewhat hard between a finger and thumb, copying Ian’s words with his eyes shut tight so he can imagine that it really was Ian there.

“And I’d pull at it slightly, making you gasp, and then kiss it softly.”

Mickey sighed and let go, desperately wishing Ian was there to kiss it just like he said.

“Then I’d trace further down your body, kissing and using my hands now. And I’d stop just before getting to your cock.”

“Jesus fuck, Gallagher,” Mickey groaned, annoyed that he stopped his hand just before his boxers, barely an inch away from his leaking and waiting cock.

Ian chuckled and Mickey’s frustration but then continued, “I’d wrap my hand around the base-”

“Fuckin’ finally,” Mickey half-moaned as he finally got his hand on his dick.

“Impatient are we?”

“I haven’t gotten off in like a fuckin’ week, Red, so yeah, I’m a little fuckin’ impatient.”

“OK, OK, I get it,” Ian laughed. “Drag your hand up your cock and circle your thumb on the head, baby.”

Mickey followed, and had to bite down hard on his lip to stop the weak whimper held in his throat.

“Bring your hand up and down slowly until I say stop, OK? Slowly.”

“Yeah,” Mickey nodded even though Ian couldn’t see that.

He stroked his hand up and down his cock, and didn’t cheat with the pace even though he was desperate to speed up.

He knew he was building up to his release, and the panting and odd moan and grunt from Ian on the other end of the line was quickly bringing him closer.

“ _Ian_ ,” Mickey quietly moaned out, not wanting to come yet until Ian had said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ian muttered, knowing exactly what he meant. “OK, stop.”

Mickey stilled his hand near the top of his cock and tried to steady and quieten his breathing so he could hear Ian.

“Just imagine my face is right by your cock, mouth open and just begging for you to come all over me, baby. You always taste so fucking delicious, Mickey. Come for me.”

Ian’s last three words came out somewhat cracked and broken, as Mickey came on que, Ian also did, dropping his phone and making the line go quiet for a minute.

Once Mickey stopped coming, he let out a long sigh of relief. He had really fucking needed that.

He pulled the now - stained boxers off and swapped them for the sweatpants he had taken off earlier.

When he settled back into bed he grabbed his phone again.

“You still there?” Mickey croaked, his voice tired and strained.

“Yeah,” Ian yawned. “I fucking love you, Mickey.”

“I fuckin’ love you too, Ian,” Mickey replied, grinning and blushing madly to himself.

***  
_**Day Eighty Nine**_

“Hey, hey! You excited?” Ian loudly said once he picked up his phone.

“Excited about what?” Mickey innocently asked, smirking to himself because yeah, he was pretty fucking excited.

“Har, har, you’re so funny, Mickey,” Ian sarcastically said. “I’m landing tomorrow around six, so pick me up at half past?”

“I’ll be there,” Mickey replied.

“Good,” Ian paused for a moment, “Wait, where are you?”

“At the store?”

“Ah, alright. What you buying?”

“Food,” Mickey said, hoping he wouldn’t press further.

“What kinda food?” Ian asked.

“Alright, Mr 20 fucking Questions, food to eat!” Mickey snapped and pushed the cart into the next aisle.

“I was just interested in what my husband was up to,” Ian defensively said.

Mickey sighed, “I know, sorry, it’s just a surprise so…”

“Ooh, I get it… So what are you getting for me?”

“Who said it was for you, ay?” Mickey laughed. “It’s a surprise!”

“I love _you_ ,” Ian laughed too.

“Love you too, shithead,” Mickey said as he spotted the sugar and put a bag in the cart. “I gotta go pay now, bye.”

“Bye, speak later?”

“Of course.”

***

Once Mickey was back home and he’d put Wolfgang down for the night, he opened a recipe on his phone and got started.

Yes, Mickey Milkovich was baking a fucking cake.

When the cake came out of the oven, it was truly the fucking epitome of ‘golden brown’.

“That was fuckin’ easy,” Mickey smugly muttered to himself as he prepped the frosting.

The baking of the cake was easy and it looked pretty fucking professional. Then came the frosting.

Mickey probably muttered a million curses under his breath as he attempted to cover the damn thing, and the result was a sloppy white mess.

Mickey shook his head and decided to call it abstract; like modern art.

He then grabbed the piping bag he’d bought and filled it with pink frosting so he could do the lettering.

Mickey held his breath and stuck his tongue out as he carefully iced ‘Welcome Home’ onto the cake. When he finished icing, he took a step back to admire the work.

As expected, it literally looked like two pink squiggles.

To try and save it, Mickey then attempted to add a heart, which only ended up looking like a third squiggle.

‘He better fucking appreciate it,’ Mickey thought to himself.

_**Day Ninety** _

Mickey’s eyes darted around, quickly inspecting each person that walked out, even though he knew he’d be able to spot his husband’s bright hair from a mile away. 

The large stream of people seemed to end and Mickey sighed; Ian was probably going to be with the next chunk of people.

He looked down at his phone to check if he had anymore texts from Ian, but just as he looked down, Wolf squealed happily.

“PAPA EENA!” Wolf excitedly pointed at the redhead speed walking towards them.

Mickey desperately wanted to meet Ian halfway, but he was frozen in the spot at the sight of his beautiful, albeit tired-looking, husband.

Ian was getting closer and Mickey’s mind was racing. The airport was full of people and he wanted to kiss his husband. Mickey wasn’t afraid anymore. No way. He fucking loved Ian, hadn’t seen him in over a month, and really fucking wanted to kiss him.

Once Ian made it to Mickey and Wolf, he wrapped his arms around the two. Mickey freed on of his own arms to hold Ian’s cheek, move his face to the perfect angle, and then kissed him.

“Eey-an! Papa!” Wolf happily shouted, making them shyly stop kissing.

“Welcome home,” Mickey muttered as they pulled away, still pressed close to Ian.

“Missed you,” Ian smiled and gave him another quick kiss, still with his hand on Mickey’s back to hold him close.

“Missed you too,” Mickey replied and pulled him into another kiss. “Ready to go home?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK OK, so I wrote this chapter and had it done like eight days after the last update, then I started writing for stuff I haven't published yet because I thoUGHT I HAD POSTED THIS AAAAAAAAAA. My dumb ass only just realised, sorry!
> 
> I hope you liked the chapter! I've finished outlining the rest of this story because I think it may be time for it to end, there's just a few things I want to do that'll probably span from 1-3 chapters... It's gonna be hard to let this story go so knowing me, I'll probably turn it into a series... we'll see...oops.


	38. Chapter Thirty Seven

“Sit, sit,” Mickey urged once they had gotten home from the airport.

Ian raised a skeptical brow, but sat down nonetheless on the sofa with Wolf sat on his lap. Ian watched, slightly confused, as Mickey dragged Wolf’s cot into their bedroom and then returned with his arms outstretched to pick up Wolf.

“What’re you doing?” Ian asked as he handed Wolf over.

“Shh,” Mickey hushed and started to gently rub Wolfgang’s back to get him asleep. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

A few minutes later, Mickey returned to the couch, this time with a cake in his hand instead of the toddler.

“It’s - uh - I - uh, I tried my best?” Mickey stammered as he placed the cake on Ian’s lap.

Ian huffed a laugh at Mickey’s flustered state before looking down and attempting to decipher the words iced onto the cake.

“The icing’s a bit messy, yeah, and I-” Mickey started.

“I love it,” Ian interrupted and grabbed Mickey’s face, pulling his husband into a deep kiss.

Mickey was startled for a quick second but quickly kissed back just as passionately as Ian was.

“Let’s eat some cake,” Ian muttered as he pulled apart from the kiss.

After a slice of cake each, and a hundred compliments from Ian that had Mickey blushing, they were cuddling on the couch watching TV.

“Ian,” Mickey said as he sat up. “I gotta tell you something.”

“Oh, OK,” Ian nodded.

Mickey tried to keep a straight face and seem serious, but the serious and concerned look on Ian’s face was making him stifle back his laughter.

“I - I quit my job,” Mickey stated, still struggling with his straight face.

“Oh…Really?”

“Yeah. I got a new job.”

Ian still looked worried, he had a good reason to be so because if Mickey didn’t have a job, then they’d be in even more shit with money.

“I fix cars and shit in a garage, like a um fuckin’ mechanic,” Mickey broke his serious face and grinned. He was so happy; he felt like he had a proper job now.

Ian’s serious face broke too, but into a more confused one. “Huh?”

“Well you’re gonna get a fancy fuckin’ EMT job, and next to you I was just a bartender. I don’t know, I don’t think I felt good enough for you or whatever,” Mickey explained.

“Aw, Mickey, you know I don’t care what you work as,” Ian said, slight sadness in his voice.

“I care though.”

Ian sighed and wrapped an arm around Mickey, pulling his body close. “I love you.”

Mickey smiled and looked up, “Love you too.”

“Mmm. So. Proud. Of. You,” Ian said in between kisses.

The kissing got deeper and more passionate. Ian swiped his tongue softly against Mickey’s, making him moan quietly into the kiss. 

When Ian brought a hand down to Mickey’s crotch to knead his half-hard cock through his jeans, they both pulled away for breath.

“Let me show you how proud I am, huh?” Ian murmured and slipped to his knees.

“Fuck,” Mickey sighed and smirked down at his husband on his knees.

Ian quickly undid Mickey’s belt and yanked his jeans and boxers forward to get to his dick.

“Mmm,” Ian hummed and licked his lips as he wrapped a hand around Mickey’s dick and started stroking. “So proud of you, baby. Such a good boy getting such a good job, hmm.”

“ _Ian_ ,” Mickey whined, his face and chest turning pink at his words.

“So so good,” Ian praised one last time before leaning forward and taking all of Mickey in his mouth at once.

“Fu-uck,” Mickey gasped, resisting the urge to instantly thrust up into Ian’s perfect warm mouth.

Ian hummed lowly around Mickey’s cock as he slowly lifted his mouth off, stopping and sucking at the head, before going back down.

Ian’s hands gripped Mickey’s thick thighs, pressing his fingers in and leaving little red marks, as he sucked his cock so good.

“Mhm, fuck, Ian,” Mickey moaned as his hands stroked through red hair.

“‘M so proud of you,” Ian said as he pulled his mouth completely off of Mickey’s dick. “My good boy.” Ian smirked and wrapped his lips back around Mickey’s cock.

Ian’s amazing mouth and words quickly had Mickey crying Ian’s name as he came down his throat.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Mickey sighed as he finally caught his breath.

“I know, I’m just so amazing,” Ian smugly said and wiped his mouth before getting off the floor and sitting beside him.

“Modest shit,” Mickey laughed and rolled his eyes.

Ian laughed too and idly stroked a hand through Mickey’s hair. “I really am proud of you though.”

They smiled at each other before both leaning in and kissing softly.

 

_**SEPTEMBER** _

The stupidly hot summer finally started to cool down. Life had been exhausting and the heat certainly didn’t help.

They both had full time jobs, and three cats and a toddler to look after. Plus, in that small apartment (with Wolf growing so quickly that he was almost the average size for his twenty month old self), everyone was hot, exhausted, and too easy to piss off.

It was a nice day in the middle of september. The temperature was not too hot or not too cold, and Ian, Mickey and Wolf were all in a good mood for once. Ian and Mickey were sat on the couch having some lunch, whilst Wolf was playing with one of the cats in front of them.

“I wanna tell people,” Mickey said and looked at Ian.

“What?”

“Like your family.”

“Wait what tell them what?” Ian asked, confused because Mickey had said that out of nowhere.

“Oh yeah yeah,” Mickey half-laughed, truthfully, he’d been pretty nervous and so forgot to actually explain himself first. “About us. I wanna do the wedding shit, with your family there.”

“Really?” Ian hopefully asked. He’d been not-so-casually mentioning about telling his family the fact he had a husband for about four months now.

“Yeah. I just really fuckin’ love you, and I’m ready for people to know that we’re so fuckin’ serious about each other. You up for it?”

“Fuck yes I am,” Ian grinned and practically jumped on Mickey to kiss him.

_**OCTOBER** _

“I don’t even know why I’m so fuckin’ nervous,” Mickey complained to his sister as she redid his bow tie for like the hundredth time. “I’ve already married him once!”

“I know, and I’m still mad at you for not telling us for ages,” Mandy joked and then stood back to admire the perfectly tied bow tie. “I guess this wedding makes up for it though.”

“I swear he’s not even real,” Mickey groaned and sat down.

“Now you’re just talking crazy shit.”

“I just can’t believe he’s real, Mandy. I just love him so much, and he loves me back, like that’s fuckin’ crazy,” Mickey ranted.

He partly knew that he was just talking ‘crazy shit’, but for some reason, he was incredibly nervous. He was marrying Ian in front of fifteen people. This was pretty fucking huge.

“Imagine if Terry was here,” Mickey muttered, already regretting the words as he spoke them.

“Mickey!” Mandy loudly said, giving him a stern look. “He’s not here! You don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not to please the dead asshole. You can be you. You have to be you, for Ian.”

Mickey nodded, she was right. “Yeah, sorry.”

“I’m gonna go take my seat, don’t be late and don’t pussy out, alright?” Mandy said. “Love you, brother,” she laughed and pulled him into a hug and kissed his cheek.

“Yeah yeah,” Mickey rolled his eyes and gently pried himself away. “I’ll be there in a few.”

Mandy left and Mickey turned to the mirror to check his tux looked OK. He took a couple of deep breaths, a small drink of water, and then left the small room to go to the main room.

They were getting married in the Alibi. As bad as it sounded getting married in a bar, they were technically getting married in the building _above_ the bar. It was good for price and Kev had been so excited to be the one to read the script they had found on the internet to marry the two.

The main room was decorated in cheapish decorations yet looked so perfect, but Mickey’s focus wasn’t on the decorations or the excited faces sat in chairs facing their homemade alter, his focus was on the tall redhead in a dark tux smiling right back at him.

Mickey quickly met with Ian, standing opposite him and smiled up at him.

“You look great,” Ian quietly said to him.

“You look better,” Mickey shyly said back, still somewhat nervous yet excited.

Kev loudly cleared his throat and everyone turned to him. He held the piece of paper they had printed in front of him and started to read.

“Double-U, double-u, double-u, dot-”

“Not that bit,” Mickey said and grabbed the piece of paper off him.

Everyone laughed at Kev’s poor mortified face, but the laughter died down once Mickey handed the paper back, this time with the web address folded over so he wouldn’t accidently read it again.

“OK, OK,” Kev nodded and then cleared his throat before he started to read. “Friends and family, we are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich and Ian Clayton Gallagher, even though the sly shits got married four months ago in New York without telling anyone…”

“Now, Ian, would you like to say a few words?” Kev asked.

“Mhm. Mickey,” Ian started as he took Mickey’s hands in his. “When I first met you, I was some dumb kid with a dumb crush on you, then life happened and I sort of forgot you existed. Then when I met you again, I was scared shitless of you. But it didn’t take me long to find the real Mickey. The Mickey who loves his coffee with three spoons of sugar. The Mickey who watches hour long compilations of cat videos when you can’t sleep at night. The Mickey who’s the greatest father I have ever known. I love you, Mickey. I love you so much and I really do want to spend my life with you.”

Mickey almost choked, his eyes slightly watering. He smiled at Ian, looking straight into those beautiful green eyes, and took a breath to prepare himself.

“Now, Mickey, a few words?” Kev then asked him.

Mickey nodded and started, “Ian, I’ve spent too much of my life hiding and being ashamed, too much of my time feeling sick and hating myself, too much denial about who I really am as a person. I denied and hated so much about myself, that I lost who I really was. You bring out who I am. You make me proud to say that I love you. I love you.”

Ian smiled at Mickey, both of their faces pink with blush, and their hearts damn near ready to beat out their chests. Then they turned to Kev as he continued.

“Do you, Ian Clayton Gallagher, take Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich to be your husband?”

“I do.”

“And do you, Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich, take Ian Clayton Gallagher to be your husband?”

“I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, I know! But that's because I've decided to make the one after this, the last chapter... Never fear though, this won't be the end... I'm making this into a series woops! I've got my last chapter for this planned (might also be a little short, because this was supposed to be the last but I've split it), and I've got a basic outline for the first couple for the next one in this series!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Much love <3


	39. Chapter Thirty Eight

_**NOVEMBER** _

It was a cold Friday evening and Mickey was in the kitchen making Ian a surprise mug of hot chocolate with Wolf toddling around by his feet in a nighttime onesie.

“Dadaaa,” Wolf whined and tugged on Mickey’s pants.

“What’s up?” Mickey asked and looked down at him.

Wolf grinned and then giggled a little before continuing to wander about, clearly just wanting attention or just wanted to annoy Mickey for a second.

Mickey laughed quietly and then continued to make the drink.

He put the mug in the microwave, set the timer, and then crouched down to Wolf’s level.

“Ready for bed, kiddo?” Mickey asked as he picked him up, even though he didn’t actually have a choice whether or not he went to bed now.

“No bed,” Wolfgang replied and shook his head.

Mickey started to hum and rock him lightly as he walked into the living room and towards his crib. Despite Wolf saying no to being ready for bed, by the time Mickey was slowly placing him down onto his blankets, he was already half asleep.

“G’night,” he whispered and then turned back around to walk to the kitchen.

He finished making Ian’s drink and then carefully held it in both hands, sighing happily at the warmth of it.

“What you up to?” Mickey asked as he walked into the bedroom, a mug of hot chocolate in his hands for Ian.

“Nothing!” Ian quickly replied, slamming his laptop shut and then smiling innocently up at Mickey.

“Nothing?” Mickey repeated suspiciously.

“Yep,” Ian agreed, guilt written all over his face.

Mickey slowly put the mug down on the bedside table, eyes locked with Ian. Then he dived at him, grabbing the laptop and rushing to the other side of the room.

“Let’s see this ‘nothing’ you were up to, ay,” Mickey smirked and opened up the laptop again.

The page reloaded and showed Mickey what Ian had been looking at: a house.

“I was just thinking, ya know, because we can afford to move, and Wolf’s growing up so fast, he’ll need his own bedroom soon,” Ian explained.

“Yeah,” Mickey nodded in agreement and walked back to the bed, sitting down beside Ian and staring at the screen.

“It’s just that setting up the rent agreement, going to visit the place, talking to a hundred different people before they let you get the place - it’s just all too much. I really wanna move, but I’m too lazy,” Ian laughed a little and then wrapped an arm around Mickey to pull him close. (It was pretty fucking cold and Mickey was more than happy to let his husband cuddle him like that.)

“Mhm, it does take time,” Mickey replied, most of his focus on the house Ian was looking at.

It looked nice, and the few pictures of the inside looked nice as well. It was still Southside though, and they had said they wanted to move away from the worst of it, but it was a nicer area of the South. And it was closer to where Mickey worked.

“You like it?” Ian asked and rest his head on Mickey’s shoulder.

“It’s a bit expensive,” Mickey replied, trying to find fault in the place to stop himself from moving out there and then without thinking it through.

“It’s only two hundred more than we’re paying for this place. We’ve both got better jobs now, it’s definitely affordable,” Ian explained.

“It’s good.”

“Yeah it is, but I’m too cold to think about that now,” Ian whined and put the laptop down. He crawled back up the bed and buried himself under the covers, then poked his head out and grinned at Mickey. “Come join me! Come warm me up, baby.”

Mickey smiled back, half at how cute his husband was, and the other half because he was slowly formulating a plan in his head.

 

_**DECEMBER** _

It was Ian’s birthday. They had already had a good morning, with sex, a cooked breakfast, a couple of little presents, a finger painting present from Wolf - which now had a special place on their fridge, and then they went to the Gallagher house.

Mickey also had another sort of big surprise for Ian, but that was for later.

After the Gallaghers had given Ian presents and wished him a ‘Happy Birthday’, Mickey and Ian retired upstairs to Ian’s old bedroom.

Ian was under the duvet of his old bed after complaining he was cold, and Mickey was sat by his feet, checking some stuff on his phone.

Mickey looked up from his phone and asked Ian, “Havin’ a good day?”

“Yep. Except that it’s damn near freezing. Come warm me up,” Ian whined, smirking at the last bit and shuffling over in the small twin bed to make room for Mickey.

Mickey grinned back, putting down his phone, and then crawled under the covers and kissing Ian.

The heat of their two bodies so close, the kissing, and the thick duvet, were good and did make them quite warm, but Ian was right, it was damn near freezing.

“Be my big spoon,” Ian said and kissed Mickey’s nose, pulling away with a grin.

“Why do I have to?” Mickey asked because he was usually - though Mickey hated the term - little spoon.

“It’s my birthday, duh. Now warm me up,” Ian triumphantly grinned and then turned around.

Mickey rolled his eyes but still huffed a little laugh. Ian had been using the ‘it’s my birthday’ excuse all day, and Mickey knew the fucker was going to milk that excuse for all its worth.

Mickey cuddled up behind Ian and wrapped an arm around his waist, resting his face behind his neck.

“Hmm, you smell good,” Mickey murmured into Ian’s neck.

“It’s the stuff you bought me,” Ian said back.

Mickey took another deep breath and hummed happily at the scent. “Pretty hot.”

Ian laughed and yawned, “You’re pretty hot.”

Mickey smiled and then closed his eyes, just for a few minutes, just to enjoy the moment of warmth and comfort with his husband.

It was two hours later that Ian was shaking Mickey awake.

“Fuckin’ what the fuckin’ fuck?” Mickey grumbled as he slowly - unwillingly - woke up.

“We fell asleep,” Ian informed him.

“Shit,” Mickey cursed. “What time is it?”

“It’s only four in the afternoon, don’t worry,” Ian smiled and kissed Mickey’s forehead.

“Fuck,” Mickey groaned as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Gotta take you somewhere.”

“Where? Why?” Ian eyed Mickeys suspiciously.

“For your birthday, idiot. Didn’t think I was done treatin’ the birthday boy, did ya?” Mickey smirked and then pulled Ian into a hug, desperate for the warmth of his body because it was fucking cold and his coat was downstairs.

Ian turned his head to kiss Mickey’s cheek and then wrapped his arms around him to hold him in the hug for longer.

“Come on,” Mickey said as they pulled apart. “It’s a ten minute drive.”

“Where’re you taking me?” Ian asked, following Mickey out of the bed.

“That’ll ruin the surprise. Now hurry up,” Mickey grinned, excited at this surprise, and enthusiastically dragged Ian from the bedroom and down the stairs.

Once downstairs, they both put their coats on and Mickey double checked he had what he needed in his pockets.

“Get in the car, I’ll be out in a minute,” Mickey said and handed Ian the keys.

Mickey then went into the kitchen where Fiona was feeding Wolfgang and Liam.

“Ian gone?” Fiona asked him.

“He’s just waiting in the car,” Mickey replied.

“You taking him over there now?”

“Yeah. If all goes well, and by that I mean he doesn’t completely freak out, we’ll probably spend the night so can you keep Wolf tonight?”

“Sure,” Fiona replied and smiled. “Ah, it’s crazy how my little brother is so much more ahead in life than me,” she sighed. “A job, a husband, a son, plus his birthday surprise from you just rounds it all off.”

Fiona looked around her at the messy kitchen and sighed again.

“Ay, you’ll get there soon,” Mickey reassured her, he was her brother-in-law now and wanted to be there to support her, even if he wasn’t entirely sure how to help.

“Thanks, Mickey,” Fiona said. “You better get going then. See ya.”

“Bye,” Mickey nodded at her

“Bye dada!” Wolf waved, sending crumbs everywhere.

Mickey laughed and then gave Wolfgang a quick kiss on the forehead before heading out towards the car and Ian.

“What where you doing?” Ian asked as Mickey started the engine and began to drive off.

“Just checking on Wolf.”

***

“Where the fuck are we?” Mickey asked himself as he turned down a street he’d gone down twice already.

“Uh, I thought you were supposed to know,” Ian unhelpfully replied and looked out the window. “Pretty sure we’ve been down this road.”

“I fuckin’ know we’ve been down this road!” Mickey snapped back and then sighed.

They had been driving around the same damn housing estate for too long, making no progress in getting to their destination.

“If you just tell me where we’re going then I can help,” Ian offered.

“Nah, let me just check the fuckin’ address,” Mickey grumbled back and looked down at his phone.

According to his phone, they were right outside the address.

Mickey glanced from his phone to the house they were parked outside and then back at his phone. Yep. It was the right place. Mickey had only missed it because it was December and it was already starting to get dark.

“Well shit, we’re here,” Mickey laughed and then opened his car door. “Move your ass, Red.”

“Here? What’s here? What are we doing here?” Ian asked as he also left the car.

“You ask too many fuckin’ questions,” Mickey rolled his eyes and then grabbed Ian’s hands and pulled him close. “It’s your surprise.”

“I’m confused,” Ian said and squinted suspiciously at Mickey.

Mickey rolled his eyes again and leant up to give Ian a quick peck.

“Come on, I’ll show you,” Mickey pulled away and started walking up the path of the house.

“Huh?” Ian was still confused, and then even more confused when Mickey pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked the front door.

Mickey grinned widely at his poor confused husband and then took his hand to drag him into the house.

“I’m still confu-” Ian started to repeat again, but was cut off by Mickey pushing him against the door and pressing his mouth against his desperately.

“Mm, happy birthday, baby,” Mickey hummed and then kissed across his cheek and jaw before he stood back.

“I don’t get it,” Ian said - still fucking confused why they were making out in a random house.

Mickey sighed and flicked the lights on. They both looked around the living room they were in, and then towards the kitchen and the stairs. The place had just scarce furniture, but it was enough.

“It’s the place you were lookin’ at last month. I signed the agreement, got everything sorted out, because your lazy ass was complaining it was too much hard work. So, happy birthday.”

“Wait… so this is our house?” Ian slowly asked, slowly understanding.

“For at least two years, yeah,” Mickey said, smiling as he watched Ian start to understand and process what was happening.

“So we can just move in here and live here?”

“Yes, you idiot. We gotta have everything out of the apartment by next week, which won’t be too hard. We can move in here whenever.”

“Fuck…” Ian whispered and slowly wandered further into the room, taking the place in. It really was a step up from the place they’d been staying in.

“It’s technically a three bed. So if you want any of your family ‘round we can set up a spare bedroom, or just turn the room into the ‘random shit’ room,” Mickey followed Ian into the room.

Ian stopped looking around to look at Mickey. Mickey was still slightly nervous, worried that Ian didn’t want this.

“I fucking love it!” Ian grinned and then pulled Mickey’s body against his. “I fucking love you,” he said and kissed him deeply.

“Let’s look upstairs,” Mickey suggested.

Ian took Mickey’s hand in his and grinned as he excitedly bounded up the stairs.

They took a quick look in the bathroom and the two smaller bedrooms before heading into the main bedroom.

There was only a bed with some simple bedding and a couple of drawers, but they both agreed it’d soon look perfect with their stuff moved in.

“We can stay the night, ya know,” Mickey said as he sat on the bed to test the mattress. His verdict: Nice. “Fiona said she’ll have Wolf for the night… And I think you deserve some more birthday sex, huh?”

Ian smirked and nodded, “I think you deserve some good fucking sex too, yeah. How about you let me take care of you?”

Mickey smirked back and stood up from the bed. He leaned in towards Ian and kissed him gently at first, sighing happily at the way his husband’s strong arms kept him firmly against his body.

Ian deepened the kiss. He ran his tongue across Mickey’s lips until he opened up and gripped Mickey’s ass a little tighter, a little closer.

They pulled apart just enough to start stripping themselves to their underwear and then came back together to make out more and grind their bodies together.

“Pocket,” Mickey whispered and shoved his coat in Ian’s hand and then lay down on the bed.

Ian rummaged quickly through his pockets before he found the packet of lube Mickey likely kept on him everywhere they went because his husband could be a horny fucker at times.

Ian warmed a small amount of the lubricant on his fingers as he climbed on top of Mickey and pressed their lips together again, biting gently on his lips occasionally. He laughed slightly into the kiss as he felt Mickey impatiently yank both their underwear off.

Mickey gasped loudly - muffled in the kiss - as he felt Ian press a slicked up finger against his hole. He lifted his leg up slightly to give Ian better access and encourage him.

“Come the fuck on,” Mickey whined as Ian circled his rim, still not pushing into him.

“Don’t be so impatient, Mickey,” Ian scolded him but was still grinning at Mickey’s mildly pissed off face. “It’s _my_ birthday, remember?”

“I swear to fuck Ian, if you keep usin’ the birthday excuse, I’mma kick your ass,” Mickey attempted an intimidating glare, which was hard to pull of considering he was naked and kind of feeling vulnerable - even somewhat submissive - underneath his husband’s beautiful frame.

Ian simply shrugged and then pushed his index finger as far as he could inside of Mickey.

“Shit! Fuck, yeah-” Mickey gasped and half arched his back from the bed to push down on Ian’s finger.

Ian slowly worked one finger in and out Mickey, crooking it and rotating it around inside of him to occasionally brush against Mickey’s prostate and making him moan and whimper.

“M-more,” Mickey groaned.

Ian added his middle finger and picked up the pace. The new pace and extra finger had Mickey scratching up and down Ian’s back as he pushed his ass up and down to basically fuck himself on Ian’s fingers.

“Mhm, so hot, baby,” Ian murmured as he stopped moving his fingers, watching Mickey do all the work.

“Yeah yeah, now get the fuck in me.”

“Nu-uh,” Ian shook his head and grinned evilly.

“What the fuck?” Mickey snapped.

“Beg for it, baby,” Ian smirked and kissed his nose. “Beg for my cock. I know you want to.”

“Ian-” Mickey warned through gritted teeth, half pissed off, but desperate and horny enough to do what he said.

“What? You don’t want me to fill you up? Fuck you nice and good? My hot cock throbbing inside of you?”

Mickey moaned at the thought. “Jesus fuck! Just fuck me!”

Ian raised his brow, expecting and waiting for more. Mickey rolled his eyes and thrust his hips up to rub their dicks together in hope that Ian would just give in.

Ian was not going to give in. If Mickey wanted his cock, he’d have to beg. It was his birthday after all.

“ _Please_ ,” Mickey whined and gave in. “I need you, baby, please.”

That was good. But Ian knew he could push Mickey further.

“Need me to fuck you? Make my husband feel so good? Give you my cock so hard?”

“Yes, fuck, please. Fuck me, _Ian_. Fuck me good and hard and then fuck me slow, make fuckin’ love to me like my husband, yeah?”

Ian paused for a second, caught off guard. Mickey never used the term ‘make love’, but Ian fucking loved it, and if Mickey wanted him to fuck him hard and then make love, then Ian was sure as shit going to do so.

“Fucking love you,” Ian growled and moved to line his cock up with Mickey’s hole.

Ian slowly started to push his dick inside of Mickey. 

Ian’s cock felt amazing inside of him. It stretched him so good. It was nice and hot and Mickey could feel every inch, every throb, of him.

“Fuck, yes,” Mickey moaned once Ian bottomed out, buried deep inside of Mickey.

Ian shuffled a little to get a better position. He grabbed Mickey’s hips, spreading his fingers to his ass so he could squeeze the thick flesh, and started to make small movements of his hips.

“Hmph, fuck me,” Mickey slapped the side of Ian’s thigh to encourage him.

Ian took the hint and pulled out half way. Then with a quick snap of his hips, he was back fully inside of Mickey, who shouted his name at that.

“Ian! Fuck. So. Good,” Mickey babbled, punctuating his words with grunts as Ian picked up the pace and started properly thrusting his cock into him.

“Feel - so - good-“ Ian groaned and licked his lips as he looked down at Mickey. He looked fucking delicious.

Ian thrusted some more, earning more babbles and moans from Mickey. Mickey wrapped his thighs around Ian’s hips and started to gain some control as he used his own hips and ass to get what he wanted.

Sure, Ian fucking loved when Mickey took charge sometimes. But now, Ian wanted the power. He dropped his arms so he could drop his body onto Mickey’s and take more power.

But his hand missed the side of Mickey’s face and instead landed partly over Mickey’s neck. Ian was about to quickly move his hand to the side and ignore that it happened, but Mickey let out a soft whimper that made him freeze.

“Shit,” Mickey sighed, looking up at Ian with wide eyes. “Do it.”

Ian nodded and went back to fucking Mickey, his hand staying light on his neck for now.

Ian dropped his other hand to the side of Mickey’s face, dropping some of his body too, and changing the angle slightly.

“Mm, fuck, right there,” Mickey squeezed his eyes shut and bit down on his lip.

Ian smirked, knowing exactly what he meant.

He put all of his focus onto that one spot, drilling into him and then gyrating his hips on that spot to make Mickey curse and moan and chant his name.

Then Ian started putting pressure on Mickey’s neck.

“ _Yes_ ,” Mickey whisper-moaned as the light-headedness started to settle in.

Ian added slightly more pressure, his thumb pressing on one side, his fingers on the other.

He didn’t want to go too far, so he stopped at that. It was just enough to make Mickey swear he was in fucking heaven.

Mickey’s head was slightly dizzy, his incessant babbling turned into wordless pants and whispers, and all he could feel was _pleasure_.

He was so fucking close.

Then Ian loosened his grip and slowed his movements.

Mickey’s eyes slowly opened from their tightly shut state to look up at Ian’s beautiful green ones.

Ian leaned down as Mickey leaned up and they passionately kissed as Ian started to move his hips again.

The movements were much slower, but just as pleasurable and electrifying as before.

“I love you. I love you,” Mickey chanted. Those words seemed to be the only thing he could think to say in that moment.

“I love you,” Ian said back and, with one more thrust, they both came at the same time.

Mickey felt like he’d just had the best fucking orgasm of his whole life. (Or at least the best he’d gotten without even touching his cock.)

As he slowly came to, he also started to become aware of the big weight that was Ian lying stuck on top of him.

“Pocket,” Mickey weakly said.

“Huh?” Ian pulled out and sighed.

He rolled over to pick Mickey’s jacket up and rummage through the pockets again. Ah, of course Mickey had thought to take wipes.

Ian wiped them both down and discarded the wipes in the small bedside waste basket, and then lay down on his back beside Mickey.

“So… Choking, huh?” Ian said with a grin.

“Shut the fuck up,” Mickey weakly replied, gently slapping his bicep, and then yawned.

“You tired? It’s only like seven, and we had a nap earlier.”

“What’s wrong with two naps in a day?” Mickey argued back as he got under the covers. “It is your birthday after all. Birthdays entitle you to unlimited naps.”

“Only I’m allowed to use the birthday excuse,” Ian laughed and wrapped an arm around his body as Mickey lay his head down on his chest.

“You like the house?” Mickey asked, yawning again.

“Mhm, love it,” Ian yawned too. Fucking contagious yawning.

“Happy birthday, Ian,” Mickey cuddled closer to his husband. “Love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok ok ok ok so I know I said that this would be the last one,,, but I want the chapter split to work right so it flows (if that makes any sense lol). So the next chapter will probably be the last one...
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Much love <3


	40. Chapter Thirty Nine

_**CHRISTMAS** _

Two weeks before Christmas, Ian, Mickey, Wolf, and the three cats had settled in their new house.

The week before Christmas, their new house was decorated for Christmas.

The Gallagher’s - and Mandy - were going to be coming over to Ian and Mickey’s house for Christmas.

“You excited?” Ian asked Mickey as they lay spooning together in bed on Christmas Eve.

“Ha!” Mickey exclaimed and turned around to face Ian. “Somethin’ like that.”

“You don’t need to be so scared, Mickey,” Ian chuckled lightly and gently stroked Mickey’s arm. “Me and Fiona will have the food under control. You don’t really have to worry about stuff.”

“It’s not that,” Mickey groaned. “I just want it to be a good day, especially for Wolf. You know the other day when we were explaining what was happening, I’m pretty sure he’s never had a Christmas before, so I just want it to be good for him.”

Ian smiled and kissed Mickey’s forehead. “You’re such a good dad. Tomorrow will be great, OK?”

Mickey nodded and gave Ian a quick kiss on this lips. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Ian replied. “Now let’s get some sleep.”

***

Mickey woke up to Ian kissing the back of his neck and blowing on the little kisses then giggling when Mickey turned around.

“Fuck’s got you so happy this early?” Mickey groaned and rubbed his eyes.

Ian grinned and then jumped onto Mickey, straddling his thighs and then started to kiss his neck again.

“It’s Christmas,” Ian said once he removed his mouth from Mickey’s neck.

“It is?” Mickey asked with a smirk, like he didn’t fucking know.

“Yeah, and I’m gonna give you one of your presents know,” Ian winked, making Mickey chuckle too.

Ian moved one of his hands to palm Mickey’s cock through his boxers. He crawled down the bed and rest his head on Mickey’s thigh, looking up to him as he rubbed his hand over him.

“You want this present now or later?” Ian asked.

“You already got me started,” Mickey huffed and raised his hips to push his hardening dick into Ian’s hand. “I want it fuckin’ now.”

Ian kissed Mickey’s thigh and mumbled, “Okay then.”

He pulled down Mickey’s underwear and instantly took ahold of Mickey’s cock. He stroked it a couple of times, getting it harder and making him throb inside of his warm hand.

Mickey grunted and put a hand on Ian’s head, stroking his fingers through the red strands.

Once Ian was satisfied with how hard Mickey was - and fuck, he was hard and leaking and desperate for Ian to put that pretty mouth of his to good use - he licked flatly across the head and hummed as he tasted him.

Ian finally wrapped his lips around him, swallowing down on his whole cock in one swift movement.

“Oh, fuck, yes,” Mickey moaned and tightened his grip on Ian’s hair.

Ian groaned and swallowed around Mickey’s cock, sending vibrations and sparks throughout his body.

Ian sucked a few times, bobbing his head up and down, before pulling off completely. He licked from the bottom of the underside of his dick, all the way back to the tip, and the swirled his tongue in a circle before sucking him down again.

Mickey started panting and moaning, clenching his fists and shutting his eyes tight. His thighs shook and the bottom of gut was tingling with heat.

“ _Ian_ ,” Mickey groaned as Ian pulled his head off again, just as he was getting so close.

Ian licked up all the saliva that was dribling down his dick and then innocently looked up at Mickey with big puppy dog green eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” Ian declared.

Mickey face felt a rush of warmth and he went pink, but Mickey was too horny to be in the mood for Ian’s compliments. “Come on, Ian.”

Ian smiled and kissed the tip of Mickey’s cock before he finally started sucking again. 

“So. Good,” Mickey grunted.

His cock was encased by a beautiful warmth and wetness. It felt fucking amazing, and as he looked down at his beautiful husband - with his messy red hair, blown pupils, and lips gone thick from sucking - he moaned Ian’s name and came down his throat.

Ian swallowed, and continued to suck as Mickey climaxed, pulling off once Mickey felt truly spent.

Mickey let out a long exhale and huffed a laugh. “Fuckin’ love Christmas.”

Ian crawled up his body and pulled him into a deep kiss.

They lay there, just making out and whispering dumb sentiments to each other, for an hour or so, before they heard their son calling from his bedroom.

“You get him,” Ian said and nudged Mickey.

“You get him,” Mickey said and nudged him back.

“We both go and get him?”

Mickey laughed and nodded. They both left the bed, pulled on some clothes, and went into Wolf’s room.

“Good morning, Wolfie,” Ian said and picked him up from his bed.

Mickey stood in the doorway and watched Ian as he bounced Wolf a little and tickled him, making the boy giggle loudly.

“You excited for your presents, huh?” Ian asked as he dressed him in the christmas onesie that Ian had bought the week before.

The onesie was a little elf one, complete with a striped hat and a little bell at the end.

“Told you it’d look cute,” Ian turned and said to Mickey.

Mickey smiled and shrugged, yeah, he looked cute, it was the matching hats that Ian had got for the two of them that he was more worried about.

“And now for _your_ hat,” Ian smirked and chucked the green striped hat at Mickey.

“Do I have to?” Mickey groaned.

Ian put on his hat and nodded, making the bell jingle. “Yeah you do.”

Mickey looked at his husband and his son with their matching hats and gave in. He put the dumb hat on his head and walked over to kiss his son’s forehead and have his husband wrap an arm around him.

“I’m hungry,” Wolf said, pulling them out of the moment and reminding them they had things to do.

“Since it’s Christmas,” Mickey said as he took Wolf from Ian, “You can have whatever you want for breakfast.”

“Within reason!” Ian butted in and followed them downstairs.

“Ian,” Mickey turned around to him, “It’s Christmas.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “Fine, but you’re keeping an eye on him if he goes hyper.”

“He’ll be fine,” Mickey reasoned.

Mickey sat Wolf down on the counter as he opened a packet of chocolate chip cookies. Mickey gave a couple to Ian and took one for himself before handing Wolfgang one.

Ian turned the radio on to a Christmas station, filing the kitchen with cheesy Christmas music.

Ian walked behind Mickey and wrapped his arms around him, resting his chin on Mickey's shoulder.

“I love our matching hats. So domestic,” Ian teased and kissed Mickey’s cheek.

Mickey shook his head to make the bell jingle and said, “They’re dumb and you know it.”

“Mhm,” Ian laughed and hummed. “But look how much Wolf likes them.”

Wolf was intensely concentrating on the bell dangling in front of his face, slapping it and giggling as it jingled.

“Worth it,” Ian murmured and kissed Mickey’s neck.

They swayed - completely out of time - to the Christmas music whilst Wolf made a mess of cookie and chocolate crumbles.

“You want some presents, Wolfie?” Ian asked once Wolf had gotten bored with his cookies and started to get irritable.

“Yeah!” Wolf grinned and perked up at the sound of presents. “Santa!”

They went into the living room where Wolf’s presents from ‘Santa’ had been put under the tree whilst they slept.

Mickey sat down on the floor with Wolf to help him open his presents, whilst Ian was on the phone to Fiona to go over their plans for the day.

Ian was right, Wolf got pretty hyper. The sugary cookies and the excitement of the presents had him running around giggling and playing with his new toys.

Luckily, it didn’t take long for him to wear out and lie down on the floor, falling asleep almost instantly.

Mickey let out an exhausted sigh and looked up to Ian. Ian nodded towards the kitchen and then stood up, walking there with Mickey following.

“Wha-” Mickey started, but was cut off by Ian’s lips slamming against his and Ian’s hands grabbing his hips to hold him against the counter.

“Reckon we got time for a quickie?” Ian asked, slamming down the lube he’d had in his pocket on the counter besides Mickey.

Mickey raised an eyebrow at him but then his eyes fell on his dumb hat. “Only if you get rid of the hat.”

“What? No! It’s festive, Mick,” Ian complained and kissed him again.

Mickey rolled his eyes and then nodded, “Fine, but you better give it to me good.”

“Oh, I always do,” Ian smirked and then roughly turned Mickey around and yanked his pants down to his thighs.

“Shit,” Mickey gasped as Ian turned him around. “How long we got?”

“Long enough,” Ian muttered back and kissed the back of Mickey’s neck.

Ian grabbed the lube and spread some on his fingers. He wasted no time in pushing a finger in and thrusting it in and out, then adding a second to spread him open. This had to really be a quickie after all.

Mickey was biting down on his lips to stop him from being too loud so they wouldn’t wake Wolf up from his much needed nap.

Ian placed soft kisses on Mickey’s neck and shoulders and back, wanting desperately to bite and leave marks but then there was the whole thing of the family coming over in twenty minutes and they might be a little suspicious.

“Get in me,” Mickey needingly whispered, pressing his ass back towards Ian.

Ian gave him one more kiss on the back of his neck before he started to stroke the lube onto his cock.

Ian grabbed Mickey’s hips and started to push inside of him.

Mickey grunted and bit down harder as he felt his husband stretch him out _so good_.

Ian roughly pulled Mickey’s hips back as he thrust inside of him, making him hold back a shout.

“Fuck yes,” Mickey quietly groaned and relaxed his body to let his husband take control.

Ian thrust hard and quick, managing to press against Mickey’s prostate everytime. Although they were trying to be quiet, there were still the sounds of skin on skin and the odd grunt or moan or yelp that couldn’t be helped.

The jingling of the bells on their hats was a bit distracting, but ay, it was Christmas.

“Love you,” Mickey groaned and that was all Ian needed to still his movements, deep inside of his lover, and come.

“Fuck. I love you,” Ian whispered.

After Ian finished coming, he pulled out and dropped to his knees, flipping Mickey around and taking his cock into his mouth.

It only took a couple of hungry, desperate sucks for Mickey to start coming down Ian’s throat.

They both caught their breath, panting slightly and shaking with unsteady heartbeats.

“That was good,” Mickey smirked and watched Ian wipe him down with some tissue and then pull his pants up.

Ian nodded and pulled him into a deep kiss, wrapping his arms around Mickey and holding him close.

“Want a pre-drink before everyone comes over?” Ian offered, already getting the vodka out.

“Mhm,” Mickey nodded, snatching the bottle from Ian and sticking his tongue out at him when he pouted.

Mickey took two gulps, let out a satisfied “ah!” and then handed the bottle back.

It wasn’t long later until the doorbell went and they were welcoming the Gallagher clan inside, with a hug and a ‘Merry Christmas’.

Everyone sat down and exchanged presents. Fiona, Ian, Lip and Mandy went off to the kitchen to get the food ready. Whilst Mickey tidied up some of the wrapping paper, occasionally throwing a glance over to where Debbie, Liam, Carl and Wolf were playing and watching the TV.

The kitchen table wasn’t big enough so everyone ended up eating in the living room, some sat on the sofas and some on the floor.

Ian and Mickey had taken a spot on the floor, Ian with an excitable Wolf on his lap.

Wolf squirmed and wriggled, but Ian had to keep them considering the mess and hot food everywhere.

“Wanna go!” Wolf cried and tried to escape from Ian’s hold.

“No no no, you have to eat now,” Ian countered, trying to feed him some carrots.

“NO!” Wolf shouted, sending carrots flying.

Ian groaned and looked to Mickey for help. Mickey took in the panicked look on his husband’s face, but shrugged.

“He’s probably just stressed because there’s so many people, lots of excitement,” Mickey guessed.

“Maybe.”

Wolf squirmed some more, throwing the food that Ian tried to feed him, and started crying.

“I think somebody needs a nap,” Mickey said, standing up and taking Wolf off Ian. “I’ll only be a minute,” Mickey said to the Gallagher’s that were now staring at Wolf kicking off.

“I’ll come with you,” Ian said and followed Mickey upstairs.

Once upstairs, he still wouldn’t calm down.

“No! No! NO!” Wolf shouted, kicking his legs and arms.

“Fuck,” Mickey groaned and stepped aside to let Ian take over.

Ian tried to get him to calm down and tried to encourage him to sleep.

But Wolf was a Milkovich, and sometimes Milkoviches could be stubborn shits.

“NO!”

Twenty minutes later, Wolfgang’s tantrum was calming as he wore himself out.

He let out a final, weak “Nu-uh,” before he _finally_ went to sleep.

Ian and Mickey didn’t say anything to each other, just gave one another a look of relief and silently crept out the room, carefully closing the door behind them.

“Holy fuck,” Mickey whispered and sat down on the floor in the hall, defeated and exhausted.

Ian sat down beside him and wrapped an arm around him to pull him close and kiss his forehead.

“Merry Christmas?” Ian said and jingled the bell on Mickey’s hat in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“You’re such an ass,” Mickey laughed and elbowed him.

They went back downstairs to finish eating with the Gallaghers.

After the food was done, the drinks started.

Ian and Mickey, both completely stressed from Wolf’s earlier outburst, drank and drank.

The Christmas music was back, and everyone was on their feet and dancing stupidly out of time.

Mickey had his hands on Ian’s waist, slipping them to cup his ass occasionally but moving them back up when Mickey shot him a death glare.

“Ay,” Mickey said and slapped Ian’s hand off his ass. “We’re fancy dancin’ now, touching my ass is low rent, Red.”

“Fancy dancing?” Ian raised his brow and continued to slowly sway with his husband.

“Yes,” Mickey nodded and chuckled. “And we’re fuckin’ good at it.”

Ian laughed and moved a hand to cup Mickey’s cheek and pull him into a kiss.

“Mm I love you,” Ian murmured.

“nd I love you too,” Mickey murmured back and kissed him again.

They swayed around for a little while and took another couple of shots. After the extra drinks, the swaying turned into drunk movements, with everyone singing along - terribly out of tune - to the music.

“Aaaaaaaall I want for Christmas is _youuuu_ , baaaabyyy” Ian louldy sang, pointing at Mickey as he did so.

The song ended, and everyone loudly applauded. Mickey moved back to Ian, wrapping his arms around him, and they continued to sway for the next Christmas song.

“EVERYBODY!” Ian shouted and pulled away from Mickey. “I HAVE SOMETHING I’D LIKE TO FUCKING SAY!”

Everyone laughed at the poor drunk redhead, but clapped to encourage him.

“Go on then!” Fiona raised her glass to him.

“Fuck…” Ian laughed as he got down on one knee and clumsily held Mickey’s hand. “Mickey Milko-bitch, ha-ha, will you marry me?”

Mandy howled and laughed, and in turn made Fiona and Lip laugh loudly too, whilst Mickey just smiled down at his dumb husband.

“Love you,” Mickey mouthed to him.

“Is that a yes?” Ian asked, looking absolutely devastated.

“Dumbass,” Mickey said and lightly slapped his forehead. “We’re married, you drunk doofus.”

“Fuck…” Ian nodded and looked down at the ring on Mickey’s finger and then the ring on his own. “Shit! We’re married! I love you!”

Ian clumsily jumped to his feet and went to kiss Mickey, but somehow they both ended up on the floor, with an audience laughing at the two of them.

A couple of hours later, the drinks had long stopped and people were sobering up and getting tired.

Ian and Mickey were cuddling on the sofa, muttering half-drunk but meaningful sentiments to each other.

“You’re such a good dad, Mickey,” Ian said. “The best.”

“The best? Nah, man, you’re the best.”

“You’re the best.”

“You’re the best.”

“No, you’re the best.”

“Holy shit! You’re both the best,” Lip snapped from the other side of the room.

Mickey giggled and buried his face into Ian’s neck, placing a couple of soft kisses.

“I hated these hats at the start of the day, but I have to say, you’re startin’ to look fuckin’ hot in it,” Mickey whispered.

“Mickey!” Ian scalded, taking Mickey’s hand away from where it was slowly travelling to his cock, and then nodded towards the room filled with his family.

“Fine! Have it your way, ya prude,” Mickey laughed and kissed his cheek.

It was about two in the morning when everybody was knocked out asleep downstairs.

“Mickey,” someone whispered and shook him. “Wake up.”

“Huh? The fuck?” Mickey groaned as he woke up, aching from falling asleep on the sofa with Ian.

He squinted in the dark and saw Debbie shaking him gently.

“What?” Mickey grunted at her, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Wolf started crying like an hour ago. I tried to calm him but I couldn’t,” Debbie explained.

It was then that Mickey’s ears tuned into the shouting from Wolf upstairs. Mickey groaned and stood up from the sofa.

“Thanks,” he said to Debbie. “Go back to sleep, I got this.”

Mickey walked up the stairs and into Wolf’s room, where Wolf was stood up in his cot, gripping onto the bars and crying loudly.

“Ay, ay, what’s up, Wolfie?” Mickey softly asked as he crouched down to his level.

Wolfgang stopped for a moment, big eyes staring at his Dada, before he started screaming again.

“Shh-shh,” Mickey hushed and picked him up from his bed.

“No, no, no,” Wolf babbled his new favourite word.

“What’s up, baba?” Mickey soothingly asked, already starting to feel himself begin to break from the stress.

Wolf kicked his legs, and punched his little fists, but Mickey was intent on rocking him gently in attempt to calm him.

“Want Papa Eena!” Wolf shouted, thumping Mickey’s chest.

“Papa Eena’s sleeping, and you should be too.”

“PAPA EENA!” Wolf cried.

Mickey groaned and placed the screaming toddler back into his bed. He ran his hand through his hair and debating waking Ian up. No, he’s got this under control.

Mickey squatted by his bed and tried to calm him down by waving his favourite teddy in his face - a stuffed wolf named Cat, but that didn’t work. Then came the actual cat, but she darted straight back out of the room once Wolfgang let out another loud wail. Mickey even tried the cookies - but alas, they failed to calm him too.

“ _Please_ ,” Mickey begged him. “Please go back to sleep.”

It was like a miracle.

He stopped. He sniffled and looked wide-eyed behind Mickey, where a sleepy looking Ian was stood in the doorway.

Then it started again.

Crying and shouting and wailing.

Mickey gave his husband a look that was nothing short of a cry for help.

Ian picked Wolf up and tried to comfort him.

This kid was fucking persistent.

Ian and Mickey took turns, passing him between them to try and calm him down, and then see if he’d go into the bed. They tried giving him food and drink and toys and see if he needed to go to the toilet.

Nothing was fucking working.

Mickey sank down to the floor, head in his hands, exhausted and probably close to tears.

Ian saw his poor defeated husband on the floor and put Wolf down in the bed so he could go check on Mickey.

“Hey,” Ian said.

Mickey lifted his head up to look up at Ian. “Tired,” Mickey grunted.

“Feel ya,” Ian laughed quietly. “It’s the terrible twos, Mickey. He’s two next month, yeah?”

Mickey nodded.

“It’s all part of raising a kid. Even the moments like this when it’s really hard, you’ll end up missing them soon,” Ian said to comfort him.

Mickey nodded and opened his mouth to reply, but didn’t say anything once he realised: the room was silent.

They both looked towards Wolf’s cot, where Wolfgang was curled up asleep.

They silently left the room, holding their breath to make sure they really didn’t make a sound, until they reached their bedroom and collapsed onto their bed.

“Fuck,” Mickey sighed and breathed again.

Ian started to chuckle quietly and then rolled on top of Mickey, the bell from the dumb hat he was still wearing was dangled in his face.

Mickey yanked the hat off Ian, and then yanked the one off his head that he had forgotten was there.

“Why you so happy?” Mickey suspiciously asked.

“Like I said, Mick, even difficult moments like that, you’re going to miss.”

“Not gonna miss that,” Mickey grumbled.

Ian leaned down and softly kissed Mickey’s lips.

Ian sighed sadly once they stopped kissing.

“It made me think,” Ian started, “We missed the first year of Wolf’s life.”

“Oh… He was just a baby though, they only cry and shit,” Mickey shrugged.

Ian laughed and shook his head, “It’s more than that. When I was a kid, I actually really loved when my siblings were babies. They’re so tiny, and smell so good, and it makes you feel so good to watch them do all their firsts, like first smile and laugh and words…”

Ian trailed off and went distant for a second. When he came back, Mickey was staring thoughtfuly at him.

“What are you tryna say?” Mickey asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ian muttered, planting a kiss on Mickey’s lips and then rolling off him.

“Please tell me,” Mickey whispered, gently stroking Ian’s cheek and looking into his eyes.

Ian shrugged and nervously bit at his lip.

“What is it? You know you can tell me anything,” Mickey reassured and gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

Ian took a deep breath and then whispered, “I want another kid.”

 

**_To Be Continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Two hundred and four days!_ That's from the first chapter to this final chapter!
> 
> When I first posted this, I wasn't sure I'd carry on writing it, I just wanted to see if writing fanfiction was something I'd enjoy - and clearly it is. Because of this, I've discovered one of my favourite things to do :)
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who has ever read, kudos'd, bookmarked, and commented - especially those who have been here from the start (you know who you are! ;) ) It's really kept me going and really encouraged me when writing this.
> 
> **I will be turning this into a series!** There's just no way I can let go of this little family - I've grown attached to little Wolf haha. Stay tuned for that! It'll probably be a few weeks because I want to write at least a couple of chapters before I start uploading so I can try and stick to consistent uploading - and I have a few other fics in the works ;)
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for the support and love with this fic! It's been a crazy journey and it's hard to let it go (but not for long ;) ) Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! <3


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